


Guitar Hero

by KarToon12



Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Original Character(s), Original Character-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-25 15:30:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 42,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10767117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KarToon12/pseuds/KarToon12
Summary: (Takes place during G1, but updated to the modern day.)  Jazz befriends a blind musician. When the Decepticons kidnap the girl in order to get their hands on a new piece of Autobot weaponry, can Kayla save the day?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I've finally gotten around to uploading all my old fan fics to this site. Just letting you all know that this was written AGES ago, and my writing style has changed a bit since then, so check out my later fan fics as well to see how I've improved. Oh, and one IMPORTANT THING: This is the G1 version of the show, but it takes place in contemporary times, so even though it's around the second season of the show, it's 2008, not 1984, okay? (Yes, 2008 was when this was written--shows how old it is. XD )

If a person were to travel to the state of Oregon, nothing would seem amiss…at first glance.  Birds chirping; blue skies; the sun blazing down across the red, desert landscape.  But if one were to talk to the folks around these parts, they’d tell you otherwise, for they learned first hand that looks can be deceiving.  Soon after, the world learned of the visitors that came to us, and received the same lesson that in this universe, there’s more than meets the eye.

Now, who are these visitors?  One needs to get out more if he or she hasn’t at least heard of them before.  Everybody has seen them at some point or another, be it the news, or on rare occasions, in the flesh.  However, in the metal might be a more appropriate term, for these visitors are not organic.  They’re robots.

Yes, robots, and no, they’re not imported from Japan.  In fact, they’re not even from this planet.  They come from a world far, far away; mechanic al giants who found our planet quite by accident, actually.  Or should we say, crash landed.  In a dormant volcano they rested for over four million years, until an eruption brought them back to the world of the living.

The Earth knows these beings as the Transformers, who have the uncanny ability to moonlight as vehicles, should they choose to.  Some chose to be trucks and cars; others would rather be planes and jets, but that’s about where the similarities end.  One must be wary, however, for not all these machines studied “E.T. 101”.  They all can think and feel just like humans, and with that, brings good and evil.

The ones who remained on the road as cars are known as the Autobots, who believe that freedom is the right of all sentient beings.  Loving and heroic, they have aligned themselves with the Earth’s populace, going so far as to make many personal human friends as well.  Our comradeship has shown the ‘Bots that, like them, we’re more than meets the eye.

The ones who decided to be planes and jets are known as the Decepticons.  Seated on the other end of the spectrum, they’re cold, ruthless, evil, and want nothing more than to take over the universe.  They take what they want, suck it dry, and leave destruction in their wake.  It is this that brings them to butt heads with the Autobots again and again.

It’s also for that reason that the ‘Bots had to be on constant alert.  Snuggled deeply in the volcano where they laid offline for so many years, their gargantuan cruiser, the Ark, hummed softly in the late hours of the morning.  Human friends, Spike, and father, Sparkplug, had gone out for the day.  Thankfully, they weren’t around to hear the awful explosion that ripped through the peaceful quiet like a knife through butter.  And naturally, the Ark’s residents were not pleased to have their rare serenity disturbed.

The one name that was screamed and echoed by all revealed the culprit, “WHEELJACK!”

The ambulance, known as Ratchet, came barreling down the orange corridors, with police car, Prowl, following close behind.  Arriving at the science lab, the CMO and tactician pried their fingers into the vertical crack, and with a heave, pulled open the doors.  The smell of smoke and burnt metal assaulted them as thick smog poured out of the entranceway.  The two mechs slowly entered the black, foggy abyss.

“Alright, what in the Pit did you do this time?!” Ratchet yelled to the air.  He swiped his hand to cut a path through the smoke, ready to strangle his intended target, despite his status as a healer.

“Just makin’ some science is all”, came a voice.  A similar, blocky hand tore through the smoke, revealing resident scientist, Wheeljack, “Although, we had a little…um…”

“Accident?” Prowl finished.

“You call this little?” asked another voice.  The smoke was hugging the floor at that point, leaving the yellow, Volkswagen Beetle, Bumblebee, visible, “You could’ve blown us halfway to Cybertron!”

“Got that right”, a red Lamborghini quipped.  Everyone turned to see Sideswipe striding into the room, with 18-wheeler, Autobot leader, Optimus Prime, following close behind.

“Well, well; the gang’s all here”, Wheeljack chuckled; his head fins flashing as he spoke.

“We’re all here because we want to know what caused the explosion”, Optimus replied.

The smoke had dissipated at that point, and everyone, except Optimus and Prowl, was staring down poor Wheeljack like gun slingers in a saloon.  With that, the scientist strolled over to a nearby table, and presented them an odd looking device.  It looked like some sort of gun; Transformer-sized of course.  But what was strange about it was the bowl-shaped thing around the barrel, making the gun itself look like a satellite dish…or a very warped-looking daffodil.  Sensing a lecture coming on, Sideswipe crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.  The others followed suit and took comfortable positions.

“I was testing out this”, Wheeljack explained; shoving the gun forward for emphasis, “Everybody knows that magnets affect computer stuff, so what this thing does is send out magnetic fields to disrupt any and all electronic devices.  There’s no limit to what we can do, but right now, I’m hopin’ that we can use it against the Decepticons.  With this baby, those creeps can be blown into a full state of confusion!”

“What about the safety?” Prowl interjected, “Assuming that this device will affect the Decepticons, won’t it affect us too?” The others nodded in agreement.

But Wheeljack was quick to answer, “Good question, which is why this dish thing is around the barrel”.  He pointed to the mentioned area, “Another magnet of the same frequency lines the inside of the dish, which repels the first magnet on the barrel.  This way, the dish points the magnetic field in one direction, so it only affects what you point it at.”

Sideswipe stared off into space, trying to fathom what the scientist said, while the rest of the group nodded in satisfaction.  Ratchet, however, took a quizzical look at the device, “Does this thing have a name?”

Wheeljack puffed out his chest and answered proudly, “I call it; ‘The Magnetic Field Disruptor and Inducer’.”

The red, Lambo prankster came around from his daze and rolled his optics, “Oh yeah, that rolls off the vocal transmitter nicely.  Why not call it…’The Magna Ray’?”

When Ratchet had inquired about the invention’s name, Prowl stepped over to an iron pillar in the middle of the lab, where he noticed the source of the smoke.  Sitting upon this pillar, was a charred, melted, smoldering mass of metal and plastic.  One of his optics widened, which was the equivalent of raising an eyebrow, and he waited for a pause in the conversation, “I’m curious as to what you tested this device on”.

That remark got Sideswipe’s attention.  He leaned in over Prowl’s shoulder, squinting his optics as he examined the aforementioned piece of scrap, “Looks like a boom box…”

“Correction”, Wheeljack said, “it was a boom box”.

Bumblebee interjected, “Correction; it was Spike’s boom box, and man, is he gonna’ be mad when he finds out…”  He trailed off from there, shuddering at the thought of his best, human friend making the discovery.  He felt compounded with even more guilt when he’d have to tell him that Wheeljack convinced him to get the boom box as a test, which explained the Beetle’s presence in the lab in the first place.

The scientist tried to remain optimistic, “Well, I still got a few glitches to work out; radio was probably too little and couldn’t take it.  But that’s no problem; I’ll make him a new one.”

Sideswipe all but interrupted that idea, “And blow the kid’s head off?!  Thanks, but we’ll just drive him out to buy one.”  The others, save for Wheeljack, couldn’t help but chuckle at that.

“I suppose it could be worse”, Prowl replied, “It could have belonged to Jazz.”

The tactician’s statement caused Optimus Prime to join in the conversation, finally, “That reminds me; has anyone seen Jazz?  I wish to speak to him.”  The group pointed to the open doorway, which led down the hall towards Jazz’s quarters.

.

.

. _1, 2, 3 o’ clock, 4 o’ clock rock_

_5, 6, 7 o’ clock, 8 o’ clock rock_

_9, 10, 11 o’ clock, 12 o’ clock rock_

_We’re gonna’ rock-around-the clock tonight_

 

The classic 1950’s song that started the genre of rock n’ roll poured from two, large amplifiers seated on the floor.  Bill Haley and His Comets weren’t alone, however, for a Southern, almost Cajun voice, sung right along with them.  That voice belonged to Jazz, the stylin’ Porsche, and resident saboteur of the Autobots.  He was currently sprawled out on his recharge birth; hands behind his head and legs crossed; his raised foot kicking in time to the beat.

Being as how he could turn into a car, that meant he had a radio, and radio equals music.  He couldn’t stand silence, so he’d usually have it playing constantly in his head, sometimes even in the middle of a battle.  But it was rare when he got a chance to just sit down and do nothing but listen to it.  When he realized he’d have one of those moments, he asked Sparkplug if he could borrow one of his CDs, and the mechanic gladly let him.  His human friend used Teletraan-One to burn a CD of the best songs he knew, and a good majority of them were from the 50’s.  Oh sure, Jazz could have easily played something in his head, but the radio only played so much, so it was nice, once in a while, to play songs the stations didn’t offer.

 

_Put your glad rags on; join me hon’_

_We’ll have some fun when the clock strikes one_

_We’re gonna’ rock-around the clock tonight_

_We’re gonna’ rock, rock, rock ‘till broad daylight_

_We’re gonna’ rock, gonna’ rock around the clock-tonight_

 

By the time he got to the middle of the stanza, Jazz’s singing trailed off, and he felt content to just smile and hum.  He slowly closed his optics and let the music carry him away.  Compared with most Transformers, Jazz had a meager field of vision.  But his blue visor wasn’t the only thing aiding him, for what he lacked in sight, he made up for in hearing.  He could detect any sound, no matter how minute, and with this skill, he was a valuable team member to have.

He had the sound turned low on the speakers, so as not to disturb his comrades.  But between the metal echoing the sound waves, and his said listening skills, the volume might as well of been turned on full blast.  His audio sensors reveled in the beat, so much that he almost didn’t notice Optimus Prime enter his quarters.  When he felt an offbeat vibration in the music, he knew someone was walking down the hall, but he didn’t bother to look.

_When the clock strikes 2, 3, and 4_

_When the band slows down, we’ll yell for more_

_We’re gonna’ rock-around the clock tonight_

_We’re gonna’ rock, rock, rock ‘till broad daylight_

_We’re gonna’ rock, gonna’ rock around the clock-tonight_

 

The “clock”, however, never reached five, for suddenly, the music stopped.  The dead silence hit Jazz like a ton of bricks, and because he was so lulled into the previous tempo, the abrupt stop actually made him jolt. “Hey, who killed da’ music?” he asked, optics widening.

His question was answered when he saw his Superman-colored leader standing in the doorway.  The end of a plug dangled on his pinky finger as a pair of bright, blue optics stared into a shiny, blue visor; a visor that hid the pained optics of said wearer. “Didn’t mean to cut your song short”, Prime apologized.

“ ‘S okay”, Jazz replied as he jumped off his recharge birth, “I kin’ play ma’ music anytime.  Whatcha’ need?”  He swaggered over to Prime and stood at attention; a subliminal apology for his inattentiveness earlier.  He also didn’t feel it best for his leader to take any more steps in his quarters.  It’s better for soldier to come to leader; not vice versa.

“I was trying to find you because I have a special assignment for you”, Optimus explained.  He put his hands causally behind his back; signaling the saboteur he could remain at ease, “Just recently, the public has been sending out reports of Decepticons in areas around the city limits.  However, all these occurrences have happened in the early hours of the morning, so we don’t know for sure if the reports are credible or not.”

“Ya’ think dem’ ‘Cons are tryin’ moreava’ sneak approach?” Jazz suggested, “Maybe they’re tryin’ ta’ avoid a fight wit’ us.”

Optimus rubbed his chin, “Maybe…right now, I need you to go out and patrol the city.  Check if everything seems to be in order, or if anything is amiss.  Report back to me as soon as you can.”

The black and white Porsche proudly saluted his leader, “You got it!”  With that, Jazz left his quarters.  He paraded down the hall; humming a tune in his wake, until a terrible odor decided to give him a full circle, slap in the face.  With heightened hearing came heightened smell as well, and his sensory relays weren’t happy at the moment.  He followed the smell long enough to know where it was coming from, then held his nose in disgust.  A burnt metal odor was spewing from the science lab.  Remembering the explosion earlier, he strolled into the room, and heard Wheeljack’s familiar grumbles.  Jazz called out, “Hey, what died in ‘ere?”

The scientist spun around at the voice, “A boom box and my pride.  I’ve been tryin’ to get this new invention a’ mine to work, but with little luck.”

The saboteur took a long look at the satellite/daffodil contraption, “Oh yeah, I heard ya’ was workin’ on somethin’.  What’s it called?”

“The Magnetic Field Disruptor and Inducer”, Wheeljack answered.

One could almost see the giant question mark that popped over Jazz’s head, “Uh…why not call it…’da’ Magna Ray’?”

Wheeljack could do nothing but stare at him; did Sideswipe have another brother besides Sunstreaker he was unaware of? “Um…yeah.  Well, I still gotta’ work out some glitches; been meanin’ to test it out in the field…”

This gave Jazz an idea, “Say, Prime jus’ sent me out on a mission.  Why don’t I take da’ Magna Ray with me?  I kin’ test it out for ya’.”

The scientist’s optics lit up at that idea.  It would certainly give him ample time to get more work done, “Good idea”.  He passed the gun off to Jazz, “The thing’s a giant magnet, really.  But the dish thing will protect ya’.  Try it out on electronic stuff and tell me what happens, okay?”

The Porsche stored the device away, “You got it.  Be back later.”

With that, Jazz strode off and made his way out of the Ark.  After taking in the desert scenery, he promptly leaped into the air and transformed.  Instead of an alien robot, a stylish Porsche, sporting a number “4” on the sides, hit the ground.  With the human hologram activated, the windows down, and the stereo blasting, the music connoisseur sped off down the highway.


	2. Chapter 2

“Kayla!  Breakfast!” yelled a voice.

The girl in question called back, “Be right down!”

Although she would’ve loved to just lie in bed, the girl called Kayla stayed true to her words and slowly slid out of bed.  She rubbed the sleep from her eyes as her bare feet hit the soft, gray carpet; carefully making her way towards the window, shielded by white curtains.  Pushing the “shield” back, she ran her hand across the pane, clicked the lock, and opened the small, glass door.  A smile came across her face as she reveled in the wide variety of sounds that came forth from the outside world; birds chirping, trees rustling, little kids playing, air blowing.  The wind whipped through her long, red hair, and she knew it was going to be a great day.

Content with the summer morning’s activity, Kayla made her way back to her bed, holding her hand out to the side.  As she passed her nightstand, she used her outstretched hand to flick on the radio that was on the stand.  She hummed the tune that came forth from it as she straightened the white, cotton covers; feeling them once or twice with her fingertips.  Next, came clothes.  She threw off her black sweat pants and red T-shirt in exchange for the black belt, blue jeans, white sneakers, and aqua blue T-shirt hanging neatly on her desk chair.  But she made sure to put her pajamas in the hamper out in the hall closet.  Her room was always neat.  She couldn’t afford to have anything on the floor, nor did she need a mirror to give her hair a quick brush.

Turning off the radio, she scampered downstairs, knowing exactly how many steps there were from continuous repeats of the morning routine.  The red-haired girl then took a whiff of the oncoming breakfast; fried eggs, bacon, French toast, and coffee.  The caffeinated drink was more likely for Mom; she preferred the tangy snap of orange juice.  She also heard the clang of dishes being washed as she entered the kitchen.

A framed picture of a brown-haired man in his 30’s, wearing army attire, stood proudly next to the sink.  The woman, sporting short, red hair; washing a dish, stared forlornly at the photo, and sighed, “Well, her 17th birthday’s come n’ gone…she’s grown up so much…and she’s pretty darn brave, that’s for sure…don’t know if that’s a good thing or not…”

“Mornin’, Mom”, Kayla greeted as she found a chair and sat down at the table.

Said mother jumped, not noticing her daughter’s entrance, “Oh, hey honey; got breakfast for ya’.”  She placed the meal in front of her teen look-a-like and put the fork on the right side of the plate, like always.  As soon as Kayla picked up the fork, however, she shifted it to her left hand and dug in; being ambidextrous, it didn’t matter what hand she used. Her mom proceeded to turn on the nearby TV.  Kayla didn’t look up from her plate, but heard the remote hit the table and slide near her.  The news appeared on screen and the two women proceeded to listen.  

“In recent news, the heroic Autobots and evil Decepticons were at it again in this scene from just a few nights ago”, the reporter announced.  As told, the broadcast switched to footage of a power plant, with the ‘Bots and ‘Cons generally going at it.  The announcer continued, “The ‘Cons had attacked ‘TFRID Industries’ in the hopes of gaining a hefty supply of energon, but thanks to the ‘Bots heroism, the ‘Cons retreated, and no one was seriously injured.  With a jump start from our heroes, the plant has now finished being rebuilt.”

“Thank God”, Kayla’s mom replied, “Can’t those robots take their fight elsewhere?”

“Awww, come on”, Kayla said in the ‘Bots defense, “The Autobots don’t mean to wreck the place, it’s the ‘Cons that want to.  Besides, if it weren’t for the ‘Bots, we all probably wouldn’t be here.”

Her mom furrowed her eyebrows in thought, “Got a point there.  At least none of them have shown up around here.”  

Kayla nodded her head, though truthfully, she often daydreamed of meeting her Cybertronian heroes.  Her mom left the kitchen, and by that time, the news had shifted to something else.  With a bored movement, she found the discarded remote and lazily flipped channels as she finished up her breakfast.

_-Welcome to my life, as a teenage robot-_

_-back to the biography of Scatman Crothers-_

_-I’m your basic, average girl, and I’m here to save the world-_

_-This looks like a job for Superman!-_

_-Domo Arigato, Mr. Roboto-_

_-to boldly go where no one’s gone before-_

_-The monster!  He’s behind you!-_

_-gotta’ see it to believe it-_

_-Thank you for bein’ a friend-_

_-It’s the inside that counts-_

_-Lucy!  You’ve got some explaining to do!-_

_-Just get in the car, trust me-_

 

_Open your eyes and take in everything that you see_

_Look at all the colors-red, yellow, blue, and green_

_We can take airplanes and fly across the globe_

_Look down upon the colors, everyone come on, let’s go_

_Because- Love, love, love, la-la love, la-la love_

_Makes the world go ‘round_

_Love, love, love, la-la love, la-la love_

_Makes the world go ‘round_

 

Kayla had landed on Powerpuff Girls, and her favorite moment of the show was on!  With breakfast long gone, she tapped to the beat of the song on the kitchen table, mimicking Bubbles on the drums.  The teen raised her voice even louder when her favorite stanza rolled from the TV.

 

_Open your ears and listen what the world has to say_

_Hear the birds and bells and you will have a brighter day_

_Everyone has a special song deep inside their heart_

_And if you want, you can sing with us, it’s a perfect place to start_

 

Blossom and Buttercup then hit the electric and bass guitar and Kayla strummed right along with them…or as best she could in the air.  The drums, the guitars, the beat; she couldn’t get enough.  But when the last notes of the song died away, it made her remember the importance of the day.  Figuring her mother heard all the singing, she called out, “Hey Mom, that reminds me; I’m heading into town today; gotta’ see if ‘Old Reliable’ is done yet.”

Kayla headed towards the front door, but her mom rushed down the steps and stopped her, “Honey, wait.  Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

Her daughter let out a sigh of frustration, “I’ll be fine…but you know, you might feel better about it if you drove me…”

The distressed mother stood stiff as a cold shiver went down her spine.  Trying to find her voice, she managed out, “Kayla…I.  Don’t.  Drive…and you know why…”

The teen sighed again as she reached for a white cane leaning by the door, as always, “Look, just…don’t worry about me, alright?  I’ve done this, like, a billion times.  I’m just goin’ to the store; it’s not that far.”  She then opened the door and the hot rays of the sun caressed her face.  Despite the brightness not bothering her, she reached in her pocket and slipped on a pair of dark sunglasses to hide her extremely pale, blue eyes, “Besides, what’s there to be scared of?  I’ll be back around noon, okay?”

Kissing her mom goodbye, Kayla strode off down the sidewalk; back straight, chin up; just like dad showed her.  Sure, the tapping cane would signal people, but good posture would hopefully tell the populace to not take pity on her.  She could handle things herself.

And besides, since when should one be ashamed of themselves for being blind?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: And so enters my OC, Kayla. What's this "Old Reliable" she's talking about? You'll just have to stay tuned... 
> 
> Oh, and that little part with the channel flips is my way of foreshadowing a bit...*tapes mouth shut*
> 
> And did ya' catch the two inside jokes there? What do ya' think the letters in TFRID Industries stand for? And what actor was in the channel flips?


	3. Chapter 3

The traffic light turned green, and the cars lining the road like a kindergarten class sprang to life again.  A red, G6 Pontiac signaled to get in the adjoining lane, but none of the “gracious” vehicles on the highway would let the teen driver over.  But then, to her amazement, a black and white Porsche slowed to a halt, and flicked its headlights; signaling her to join the parade of cars in his lane.  As she drove away, she gave a happy beep to thank his politeness and waved.  The Porsche gave a beep in response.  Little did the contents of the Pontiac know, that the Louie Armstrong look-a-like she was waving to was merely a hologram, and the Porsche itself was no car; it was Autobot Jazz.

The saboteur’s beep may have sounded happy to everyone around him, but it was more or less to release some of his pent up frustration.  It was the third time he saw that same traffic signal, and the fifth time he had circled the whole city.  There was nothing good on the radio; it was 90 degrees in the shade, and no interesting stimuli what so ever.  Needless to say, it was boring.  Maybe the reports were wrong.  Either that, or the Decepticons were trying to send them on a wild goose chase.  He hoped it wasn’t the latter and prayed for choice number one.

With that, Jazz pulled into an alleyway and heaved a sigh.  He’d never shirk his duty, but admittedly, the patrol was getting tedious.  He searched every last road and side street, and everything seemed to be on the straight and narrow.  “Well, better radio Prime”, he said to himself, “Nothin’ bedda’ ta’ do; city checks out fine…kinda’ weird da’ ‘Cons didn’t blow up nothin’.”

But then, just as the Porsche was about to comlink his leader, a horrible, but all too familiar sound wafted towards the left side of his audios; an explosion.  It was a small one, but then again, almost nothing was out of range of his hearing capabilities.  Judging by the volume level, it wasn’t too far away, but far enough to not shake the nerves of the pedestrians in his vicinity.  As Jazz backed out of the alley and sped off down the highway, he let out a groan, “I jus’ had ta’ open ma’ mouth…”

Meanwhile, on another side of town, things weren’t as serene.  A power plant was seated on the edge of the city, usually fulfilling its job of generating electricity for the buildings and their patrons.  However, power output would now be at an all time low, no thanks to a Decepticon duo who decided to barge in, uninvited.  On the outside, nothing would seem amiss; the chain link fence along the plant’s perimeter didn’t even have the slightest dent.  But past the long web of wires, cooling towers, and office buildings was another story.

In a far off corner, near the edge of the plant, was one of many generator rooms.  Inside, two giant robots; one, a deep blue; the other, purple, silver, and black, were hefting large loads of purpleish-pink cubes.  Half a dozen stacks of the items were already by the warehouse-like doors.  After placing down a few more cubes, the blue mech addressed the other one, “Just a few more of these and we’ll be good to go.  Skywarp, where're you at?”

The robot in question revealed himself from behind an enormous, generator tank.  He had a load of cubes in his hands, and set them down, showing his wicked face, “Right here, Thundercracker.  Though this job would go a lot faster if Soundwave hadn’t left.”

Thundercracker scratched his head, “Why would that overgrown tape deck leave like that?”

Skywarp rubbed his chin; a sarcastic lilt to his voice, “Hmmm, I don’t know.  Maybe because you caused a ruckus dropping an energon cube!  He was smart to leave; you probably blew our cover!”  He punctuated the last sentence by whapping his comrade upside the head.

Thundercracker shot his assailant a look, “Oh, quit your gripin’!  The stupid fleshlings are long gone, and we ‘Cons can take anything those Autodolts can dish out!”

Just then, there came the sound of someone clearing their throat.  Two pairs of crimson-red optics widened, and the two Decepticons turned to face the newcomer.  Standing in the doorway, with the sun glistening off his black and white paint job and blue visor, was Jazz.  He put on a mischievous grin, and with his arms folded, replied, “Is dis’ a private party, or kin’ anyone crash?”

The two energy thieves answered by firing the lasers on their arms.  Jazz slid his feet, swiveled, and propped himself up with one arm, in a move every break dancer would be envious of.  With his free hand, he unsubspaced his rifle and shot back.  The two ‘Cons hit the deck, then scampered behind the many energy containers in the room to use for cover.

Right now, the saboteur was in a bit of a spot.  He was standing right next to a pile of energon cubes, and if the laser fire hit it, it could spell trouble.  So he was forced into the open entranceway with his assailants having the better cover.  He considered calling his fellow Autobots, but decided against it; they would’ve found themselves in the same bind anyway.  It’s not that Jazz wasn’t a team player, he just didn’t want his friends getting beat up over something he knew he could handle himself.  He didn’t like calling for help if he didn’t have to, and he could take these two chumps down any day of the week.  He’d hold off the call until there was serious trouble.

However, there was a serious thing he took into account; the space they were fighting in.  With lasers of all colors of the rainbow rocketing around his body, the Porsche started to step back as nonchalantly as he could.  He fired an occasional shot, but with him enlarging the distance between the factions, his two markers would be forced to abandon their hiding spots and get closer.

The idea was to try and lure them out into the open field nearby.  For one thing, the space they were having their shoot out in was incredibly small, relative to the robots’ gargantuan stature.  A cramped room meant restricted movement, and it would be incredibly easy for any of them to get knocked into an electric pylon and have the whole place go kablooey.  This, and basically the whole plant had danger stamped all over it.  The other problem was the damage; an amount Jazz knew would be high.  If they took the fight out into the field, then, at the very least, the destruction would be minimal.

Fortunately, the plan seemed to be working; the plant was getting tiny, the ‘Cons were running toward him at full speed, and now it was time to take the fall.  With his visor aiding him, Jazz took aim and fired at the laser spiraling at his face.  The result was a Fourth of July shower of sparks and bright flashes that caused the mechanized creeps to skid to a stop and cover their optics.  In the meantime, the saboteur let out a cry and fell to the ground; powering down his optics and making his visor crooked for added affect.  When the fireworks ended, the robotic villains relinquished their shielded faces and slowly crept up to their black and white foe.

The two stared at the unmoving body; stunned.  Thundercracker was the first to break the silence, “Did we just do what I think we did?”  Skywarp held an equally deadpan expression.  But unlike his comrade, who eased up, he remained cautious.

Jazz didn’t need his optics to hear the broken conversation.  He felt gentle footsteps coming toward him, and then heard the creak of someone bending down and leaning over his chest.  Whichever of them it was, he could practically smell how nervous they were.  He got an ID when he heard Skywarp whisper right near him, “Wait a second…”

“That’s ma’ cue…” the Porsche thought.

Suddenly, Jazz sprang up!  His jack-in-the-box maneuver got the desired results when his foes yelped and staggered backwards like Mr. Magoo, giving him a window of opportunity to deliver a powerful right cross to a certain metallic figure eyeballing him moments before.  Skywarp figured something was amiss, but he hadn’t expected the punch, and actually landed on his rear end.

The same couldn’t be said for Thundercracker, who, after gathering himself, leap-frogged over his K.O.ed comrade, and tackled Jazz.  The mechs proceeded to roll about the desert ground, kicking, punching, and letting out unintelligible grunts.  From Skywarp’s vantage point (who, by the way, was still on the ground, seeing stars), all he could see was a dark cloud of turbulence dust, and then a blue laser rip through it.

The laser fire must have belonged to Jazz, because suddenly, a Porsche came flying out of the dust cloud, flooring the gas pedal.  It then screeched to a halt, doing a 180 as it did, and immediately sped back towards the intended target.  The dust cleared, revealing Thundercracker rubbing his stomach area in pain, totally unaware he was a sitting duck.  The Porsche popped a wheelie, sprouting arms, legs, and a head, and Jazz put all his gathered speed and strength into socking big, blue, and nasty right in the gut with clenched fists.  Thundercracker keeled over like a crash test dummy, got flung back at lightning speed, and landed in a crumpled heap on the ground.  The force of the punch and the fall caused the ground to violently shake.

Unfortunately, because of all the shooting earlier, Jazz failed to notice that the open field wasn’t all desert.  There was actually a park with trees nearby, lined with a cement sidewalk.  Strolling down that sidewalk, was a teenage girl, 17 roughly, with long, fiery red hair; tapping a stark, white cane as she went.  However, her calm stride was terminated abruptly when Jazz’s signature move caused the ground to shake, which make a tremor spread through the ground of about a hundred-meter radius, and the girl was in that radius.  The sidewalk literally jerked under her feet, and the teen landed on her bum much like Skywarp; her sunglasses falling into her lap.

Her pale, blue eyes darted about, looking at everything and nothing at the same time.  “What the heck was that?” she whispered, sliding her sunglasses back on her puzzled face, “This city isn’t in an earthquake zone…”  Earlier, she could have sworn she heard an explosion, but later concluded it was probably nothing more than a truck backfiring.  Now she was beginning to think otherwise.

While Jazz and Thundercracker were in the middle of their brawl, Skywarp finally started coming around from the aftershock of the surprise punch.  All the pretty stars disappeared when the robo-charged earthquake hit, and the Decepticon turned over.  He was on his knees when his red optics came to rest on his escape plan.  There, in the clearing, he spotted a human girl, using her cane to get herself back on her feet.  She was wearing blue jeans and an aqua blue T-shirt; a combination that made her stand out from the dark green trees and orange-red desert.  One might as well of stuck a sign on her that boasted, “Hi.  I’m a helpless victim, and I’m ripe for the taking.”

The teenager was busy brushing herself off, oblivious to the enormous hand coming right for her.  Her eyes bugged out like lollipops as cold, metal fingers coiled around her skinny body, and she was hoisted into the air.  A gasp escaped her, “Hey!  Wha-?! Whooaaah!”

Jazz was so busy cleaning Thundercracker’s clock, that he almost forgot about Skywarp.  His sharp audios heard a human cry, and his head snapped in the direction it came from.  He then let out a gasp of his own; Skywarp had a human girl in his clutches!  He swore under his breath, “Aww, slaggit!”  Then, he yelled, “Skywarp!  Put da’ girl down!”

Being a jet, the ‘Con wasn’t prepared to let some flashy car give him orders, “I’d like to see you try it!”  He jerked the teen rather roughly in front of his face, “One more step, and I’m takin’ this wretched human on a one way ride to the Pit!”

The saboteur stood frozen in his place, trying to work out what to do.  Skywarp was holding the girl right in front of his face, which meant the ‘Bot couldn’t make any harsh moves without harming her, not by himself at least.  He figured now might be a good time to call for backup.  He raised his hand to call his comrades, when suddenly, a surprising and remarkable thing happened.

Apparently, the girl had other plans and wasn’t going to take things lying down.  Although clenched in the ‘Con’s fist, the girl’s arms were free, and she used the cane clutched in her hand to tap Skywarp’s face during the threats.  Finding his nose, she traced it down about a quarter of the way, then lifted her cane again, aiming it just a foot over from where she originally had it.

“Put me down ya’ big jerk!” she demanded.  Without hesitation, the teen rammed her cane as hard as she could right into Skywarp’s left optic!  Not only was he now nursing a sore face, but a poke in the optic as well.  He screamed at the unfairness of it all and held his optic in pain.

“Fraggin’ little fleshling!” he cursed.  Of course, with him clutching his face, he let go of the girl.  She didn’t scream per say, but because she was unaware of how high up she was, she managed a yelp at the sudden drop.

Jazz, of course, sprang into action.  He immediately dove forward with cupped hands and caught her before she went splat.  With Thundercracker in a daze and Skywarp considering a career as a pirate, he had a little time to get her out of harm’s way.  He quickly darted away from the action zone, holding her as gently as he could.

The teenager had her arms wrapped around his thumb, but never-the-less started wriggling about.  She had no idea who or what had her, and if this thing was even good or not.  Although his attention was mainly on finding a safe spot, Jazz must of noticed her squirming, for he replied, “Don’t worry miss, I’ll getcha’ outta’ here.”

Immediately, the girl eased up.  His friendly tone must have told her otherwise.  But just to be sure, she asked, “I take it you’re the good guy?”

Jazz gave her a reassuring smile, “Spark a’ gold!”  With that, the Porsche set her down.  There isn’t too many places to hide in an open field, but they were now a pretty good distance away from ground zero.  He had to admit the Decepticons were still loose, so he’d have to check on her later, “Stay ‘ere, ‘kay?”

The girl nodded in agreement and he turned to go.  From behind, he heard her say, rather confidently, “Give that guy what for!”

He gave her a thumbs up, “Can do!”  He then transformed into his Porsche mode and raced back to the battle zone.

Skywarp closed his left optic, after finally realizing that holding it wasn’t making the pain go away.  Now, if he wanted to shoot something (a certain Autobot in particular), he’d have to aim a few feet over from his mark.  Speaking of Autobots, the saboteur had seemingly disappeared; disappeared to, he had no idea, and at the moment, he didn’t care.  The jet did a slight jog over to Thundercracker, who was on the ground, doubled over in pain.  Big, blue, and ugly let out a groan, and opened his optics to see three images of Skywarp dancing about his blurred vision.  Neither of the two saw a Porsche speeding towards them.

Purple and silver smacked deep blue across the face and cursed, “Get up you dumb aft!  Get-up you fraggin’-acoof!”  Jazz dropped on top of Skywarp like a black and white bolt, smashing his feet into his enemy’s shoulders and making a Decepticon sandwich in the process.  The ‘Bot used the ‘Con as a diving board, and sprang off of him, landing gracefully on the ground to face his foes.

His assailants attempted to get up, giving the Porsche time to think.  This battle was dragging on a little too long for his own tastes, so now, it was high time to end it.  What finishing move could he possibly perform to make the ‘Cons turn tail and run?  A light show?  Loud sounds?  Jet judo?  His enemies were now on their knees, so he quickly ran through all his friends’ special moves and thought how he could apply them here.  Optimus, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Ironhide, Prowl, Wheeljack…Wheeljack!  Upon remembering the scientist, he also harkened back to the conversation they had earlier that day. “Say, Prime jus’ sent me out on a mission.  Why don’t I take da’ Magna Ray with me?  I kin’ test it out fer’ ya’.” Immediately, Jazz dove for the compartment in his right leg.  Unsubspacing the Magna Ray, he looked at the device and tried remembering what Wheeljack told him.

 _“The thing’s a giant magnet, really.  But the dish thing will protect ya’.  Try it out on electronic stuff and tell me what happens, okay?”_ With that, the saboteur found the “on” switch, kicking himself for forgetting he had the thing.  The tip of the barrel began lighting up, and the dish around it glowed a bright blue; a soft hum coming forth from the weapon.  Well, he promised he would test it; no clue what would happen, but what two better guinea pigs to try it on than a couple of Decepticons?  The two hoodlums were now on their feet and advancing.

“Let’s hope Inspector Gadget’s right ‘bout dis’ thing…” Jazz prayed.  He took aim and fired.  The ray made a loud screech as it poured out its energy.  Although no rings or light beams came out of it, the saboteur knew it was functional, for suddenly, the ‘Cons halted in their tracks.  For a moment, they did nothing; just stood there as if someone delivered them some shocking news.  But then, slowly, but surely, their shock turned to puzzlement, then anger, then pain.

Thundercracker winced, followed by moving his mouth as if he was gritting teeth, then clutched his head, “What…is…thing?  Head…throbbing…”  His voice, however, was only a murmur.

Standing next to him, Skywarp dropped to his knees and held his stomach area as if he was about to upchuck.  In his mind, the world turned a mirad of colors, with the landscape swirling about like a lava lamp.  He thought he heard his comrade say something, but all he picked up was radio broadcasts and VH1’s “I Love the 80’s” special.

From Jazz’s standpoint, the two were just babbling nonsense…something about headaches, swimming pools, and…Voltron?  He followed that up by letting out a low whistle; whatever trip this device was sending them on, he sure as heck didn’t want to be part of it.

“Well, I’d say dat’s ‘nough punishment fer’ one day”, he drawled.  He got the results and the info he needed, and he didn’t want to wear out the weapon too quickly.  So, after a hearty laugh at both their expenses, he turned the Magna Ray off and stowed it away.

Immediately, the ‘Cons sighed and groaned in relief.  The two got up; looked at each other, then shot the saboteur a quizzical glance.  Thundercracker tried contemplating what the heck just happened to them, while Skywarp reviewed their options.  Either one; stay and fight a ‘Bot with questionable and unknown weapons that could send them into a drunken tizzy, or two; flee and fight another day.  He went with choice two.

“I don’t know what in the blue Pit just happened”, Skywarp said, backing up a few steps, “but let’s get outta’ here!”  He quickly transformed into his jet mode and Thundercracker followed suit.  The two then bolted over the Porsche’s head, causing him to duck.  When he turned around, the Decepticons were only a speck in the sky.

Jazz grinned from audio to audio; he won the battle, Wheeljack would be happy that his invention worked, and no one was hurt…on the note of hurt, was that girl he rescued okay?  Spotting her in the distance, she was standing there, albeit very patiently, just like he told her.  As he walked over, he also thought she was sharp; he never said, “I’ll come back”, just, “Stay here.”  But apparently, just the words, “Stay here”, was enough for her to know he’d come back for her later.  Then again, it did make sense; why tell someone to stay put if you’re not coming back for them again?  He still wished he would have said something else, although he was in the middle of a fight. Upon reaching her, he crouched on one knee to bring himself closer to her level.  Putting on a happy face, he replied, “Sorry fer’ da’ rough landin’, lil’ lady.”

The girl smiled and waved off his apology, “Beats bein’ a grease spot on the street.”

Jazz chuckled at her response.  However, his laughter died down when he finally got a good look at this teenager.  The dark sunglasses and white cane explained why she hadn’t run away from the scene they made earlier; this girl was blind.  His spark suddenly sank, realizing that his smiles and body movements were for nothing.  He remained in his current position, but held a frown, “Are ya’ alright?” The red-haired girl nodded, smile also turning to a frown.  She starred off into space; an eyebrow going up in a look of thought.  From the way her new friend trailed off, it sounded like a heavy weight suddenly came over him, and then she realized why.  From the earlier ordeal, she estimated he was pretty tall and tilted her head back to address him.  She gave a wry smile, “Never met a blind person, have you?”

The question caught Jazz off guard and he blinked, “N-no…”

He starred at her, hoping he didn’t insult her in any way.  But he was soon relieved when she put her head down and laughed, “Well, first time for everything”.  She extended a hand, “I’m Kayla.”

The saboteur prodded her hand with a finger and she grasped it for a gentle shake.  “Name’s Jazz”, he said.

Kayla’s eyes went wide, causing her sunglasses to slide down the bridge of her nose, exposing her pale, blue eyes.  Her mouth widened into a fan girl sort of smile, as if just realizing who she was talking to.  Clutching his finger, she stammered, “J-Jazz?  Jazz the…Autobot?”

The Porsche smiled, “Da’ one n’ only.”

The gasp finally escaped her and she practically squealed, “I-I heard so much about you guys!  B-but I never thought I’d actually m-meet one of you!  I’m honored!”

Jazz blushed; kids were cute.  He was then brought back to focus when he felt something on his hand.  Looking down, he witnessed Kayla walking up and down his open hand, feeling the cool metal that was warm and inviting at the same time to her.  He flattened his hand to let her investigate further, and investigate she did.  He studied her face, fascinated at seeing a blind person at work.  After following his fingers, she made it to the inside and felt his palm with much precision. Kayla let out another chuckle, “No need to be nervous.”  He was about to say otherwise when he noticed that his hand was shaking slightly, and she obviously felt this.  Maybe his body movements weren’t for nothing.  Jazz coughed and broke the silence he always hated, “Um…were ya’ headed anywhere in particular?  If ya’ were, I kin’ drive ya’ there.”

Kayla stopped her palm reading and spread a grin; excited at the prospect of riding in an Autobot, “Sure!  That’d be great!”

With that, Jazz once again transformed into his Porsche mode; happy to help her out with something.  He told her the door was open and she was standing right in front of it.  She walked over, tapping her cane to guide her, and grabbed the hood of the car.  Ducking her head, she practically hopped in, and reached over to close the door, when it closed by itself.  However, when the door closed, he noticed a slight nervousness come over her as she fumbled for the seatbelt.  He was about to ask what was wrong, when she seemed to shrug it off and gave him the address.  Turning on his human hologram, he sped off the field and onto the road.

For the first minute or two, the trip was silent.  Jazz wanted to turn on the radio, but he had a guest with him.  Best to leave it off if they were going to have a conversation.  Kayla was the first to speak, “I never got a chance; thanks for savin’ me back there.”

The Porsche chuckled through the speakers, “No, problem, though I should be thankin’ you.  Whatcha’ did ta’ poor Skywarp back there was genius!”

The teen let out a laugh of her own, “Well, ya’ gotta’ learn to think on your feet, even if they’re dangling in the air.  Bet Skyjerk’s gonna’ feel that in the morning.”  She patted the top of her cane for emphasis.

Jazz laughed again, although it was much weaker.  After something like that, one would think she’d be a nervous wreck.  He was taken aback at how she seemed so unfazed of the whole ordeal, as if they were talking about the weather.  Curious as he was, he decided not to question her about it; she was through enough.

Kayla rested her head in her hand, starring out the window; a smile on her face.  For what reason, Jazz didn’t know; it’s not like she saw anything.  Then again…man, this was weird.  His first encounter with a blind person was both fascinating and confusing.  Why did she stare at things she couldn’t see?  And why was she so darn calm?  Maybe Spike or Sparkplug would know the answer; he’d have to ask them sometime.

“Well, here we are”, the Porsche announced.  He slowed to a stop and opened the door.  Slowly, but carefully, the teen got out.  As she did, he started contemplating the rest of his day.  He’d have to call the Ark to send reinforcements to make sure the Decepticons didn’t get the energon cubes.  Then, they’d have to transfer the cubes’ energy back to the power plant where it rightfully belonged.  He’d also have to give his team a full report, and tell Wheeljack the Magna Ray was a success…

“Bye, Jazz!” Kayla said, snapping him from his train of thought.  She was standing on the sidewalk, smiling and waving in his general direction, “Thank you so much!”

“No problem, lil’ lady”, the Porsche happily replied.  Just to be on the safe side, he waited on the curb and watched her go into the desired building.  Curious, he checked his internal mapping system to see what place she was heading into exactly, and when he found out, his spark started pounding.  He’d definitely have to get Spike and go there sometime.  He then turned on the radio as he made a U-turn, and started back for the power plant, leaving the building he craved to get into.

 

_B & W’s Music Center_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: So begins a beautiful friendship...  
> And the power of the Magna Ray is given a glimpse...  
> And also another Easter Egg: What did the letters 'BW' (the music store) stand for? (And I also snuck myself somewhere. Can YOU guess where?)


	4. Chapter 4

In a state like Oregon, with the intense sun and burning hot deserts, one would usually relish the feeling of crystal-blue waters that are hard to find.  But again, if one were to talk to the aforementioned folks around these parts; again, they’d tell you otherwise.  In fact, they would tell said person to stay away from the water, because, as previously stated, there’s more than meets the eye.

Upon hearing this, one would instantly hear the famous John Williams score and believe he or she will be brutally gobbled up by an unseen aquatic predator, ala Jaws.  But if one were to learn the ambiguity of these waters, he or she would gladly take the 25 foot great white shark any day.

Lurking deep, deep beneath the water, past the fish, and secured on a rock bed nestled in the darkest corner of the water’s floor…was the headquarters of the cold, ruthless, and evil Decepticons.  From the outside, the small windows revealing the illumination from within pierced the darkness, like the eyes of a predator waiting to pounce on an unsuspecting victim; the thousand tons of water around it offering nothing but a dead silence.  However, inside the looming structure was a different sound; the sound of an explosion…an explosion of anger.

The burst of hatred belong to the Decepticons’ feared leader, Megatron.  His cold, silver and black, metallic body reflected the look of terror upon the faces of Skywarp and Thundercracker.  The two F-15 jets had retreated straight back to base after their run in with Autobot Jazz, mortified.  It wasn’t so much their defeat, it was the reaction they knew they would receive from their leader that frightened them.  When they recounted the battle in all its “glory”, naturally, Megatron wasn’t too pleased.

Well, maybe not all its glory.  Skywarp left out the part about that accursed fleshling poking him in the optic.  There was no way he’d take that kind of humiliation being echoed amongst his comrades.  He was just getting to the part about Jazz pouncing him when Megatron interrupted to continue chewing them out.

The tyrant smashed his fist on a nearby table, glowering with rage, “I have heard enough!  It was just a matter of stockpiling energon cubes and you two fools couldn’t accomplish such a simple task!  You even outnumbered that wretched Autobot two to one; you’ll pay for this indignity!”

Thundercracker threw his arms open in an attempt to defend himself, “It’s not our fault!  Everything would’ve been fine if Soundwave hadn’t left!”  He jabbed a finger at the dark blue, tape deck Decepticon, who was busy typing away at a large computer.  Although he could hear the roast of his two team members, he promptly ignored most of it.  He didn’t even flinch, nor turn his head when his name was brought up.  Thundercracker added, “At least we stayed and fought!”

“Silence!” Megatron roared; red optics flaring up, “I called Soundwave back to headquarters because I needed him here.”

“For what?” Skywarp quipped.

“Don’t concern yourselves with my communications officer”, the dictator snarled; optics leering, “He fulfilled his job; you didn’t.”

Thundercracker shot Soundwave a nasty glance; the tape deck continued to work at the computer, seemingly oblivious to the argument.  Either that, or he was purposely fiddling with something to not draw attention to himself and be dragged into the affair.  Whatever it was, it was crystal clear that Megatron favored the CO more than anyone else.  Thundercracker mumbled his jealousy under his breath, optics shifting to the metal floor.

The red and blue jet known as Starscream had his arms folded, and was leaning against the dark, metallic walls in another corner of the control room.  He too, was an audience member of the whole scolding, and finally decided to interject his own opinion.  He cast his fellow ‘Cons a wicked grin, and casually pushed himself off the wall, replying, “Too bad, Megatron.”  He waltzed up to the evil trio, “Now, if I had led that operation, maybe things would have turned out differently.”

“Oh, shut yer’ slaggin’ yap!” Skywarp barked; fighting the urge to swing a punch, “Even those stupid minibots could’ve drilled you into the ground before you were even aware of it!”  He crossed his arms, “Either that, or your cranial unit would’ve blown a fuse along with us, no thanks to that cursed Autobot and that weapon of his.”

One of Megatron’s piercing-red optics widened; the equivalent of raising an eyebrow, “What weapon?”

The F-15 jets looked to their leader, who was starring them down with impatience.  Thundercracker turned to Skywarp; a silent signal that he should explain.  After a few rough starts, Skywarp began, “After Jazz pounced us, he revealed a strange looking device.  When it was aimed at me, my optic sensors malfunctioned, and the world was thrown into a spin.”

“The same thing happened to me”, Thundercracker interjected, “I heard strange noises, and couldn’t think straight.  When it was all over, that’s when we left.”

Starscream starred at the two, and Soundwave even turned in his chair.  At that point, Megatron had noticeably calmed down, and had his hand over his mouth in thought.  After what seemed like an eternity, the leader spoke, “You say this weapon messed with your minds?”  The two jets nodded, and after another pause, he continued, “This is truly a remarkable device; one that none of us have seen before.  If this device affects Transformers in the way you say it does, then we’re in serious trouble.”

The silver and black tyrant rose from his chair and strode over to Soundwave.  The tape deck rose from his chair as well and stood at attention.  Megatron replied, “Soundwave.”

“Yes, Lord Megatron?” the tape deck asked in his electronic, monotone voice.

“First thing tomorrow, I need you to do a little spy work for me.  Locate any and all Autobots and find out what you can about this mysterious device”, the dictator ordered.

“As you command, Megatron”, Soundwave saluted.

Starscream was all too quick to retort, “What’s with the espionage?  Why can’t we just blow those pathetic Autobots to smithereens?!”

The dictator narrowed his optics and scowled, “Once again, your stupidity shines like a star.”  This time, he was the one to point a finger, “Our faction will be doomed if the Autobots perfect this new technology of theirs.  We must learn everything we can, if we’re to have a chance at retribution.”  He slashed his black hand across the air, “Now out of my sight; all of you!”

With that, Thundercracker and Skywarp skedaddled out of the room, and Soundwave went back to work on the computer.  Starscream gave his leader one last sneer before stalking off as well.  After all was said and done, Megatron sat down once more, left to wallow in his own, wicked thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: The plot thickens...  
> This part (and all parts with the 'Cons) made me nervous, since I usually don't bother with getting to know bad guys personally. Hopefully, the dialogue and mannerisms turned out okay.


	5. Chapter 5

After awakening from recharge and having his morning energon, Jazz moseyed down the orange corridors of the Ark towards Optimus Prime’s quarters.  Since the ruckus at the power plant yesterday and the work load after that, the Porsche figured his leader would still have some assignments for him to do.  Reaching his destination, he knocked on the steel doors, sending an echo down the hallway.  A voice came from within, “Come”.

The doors swished open and the black and white mech stepped into the room.  Optimus was working at his desk; his computer, Jazz figured, since he could hear the typing.  The leader had his back turned, and the glow from the screen illuminated around his figure.  He then swiveled in his chair to face the guest he permitted to enter, “Oh, hello, Jazz.”

“Mornin’ Optimus…sound kinda’ beat”, the saboteur replied, addressing the tired tone in his leader’s voice.

Prime ran his hand across his helmet, “Don’t worry about me.  I’m glad you came in; I have another mission for you.”

If Jazz weren’t in the presence of his leader, he would’ve heaved a sigh.  He figured there was still some work to be done, but another mission?  Don’t the Decepticons ever take vacations?  However, he couldn’t blurt this out in front of Prime, at least not when he was being briefed.  So, like always, he held his reserve and paid attention, “ ‘Nother mission, sir?”

Optimus put his hands on his knees and pushed himself out of his chair, “Yes, Jazz, but I think you’ll like this one.”  That got the saboteur’s interest.  Prime continued, “By the looks of things, you ran a very thorough patrol the other day.  Not only that, you single-handedly took down two Decepticons; saving many lives in the process.  And for once, there was no major collateral damage done.”  He placed a hand on Jazz’s shoulder, “Today, your mission is…to take the day off.”

The Porsche’s face broke out in smiles.  Did he just hear that right?  A day off?  He could do nothing but repeat it himself, “A…day off, sir?”

Optimus let out a chuckle, “Sure.  After all the work you did before, during, and after the battle, you deserve it.”  He gave the saboteur a pat on the back, “Good job, soldier.”

Again with the smiles.  Jazz saluted Prime; a sparkle in his visor, “Thank you, SIR!”

With that, he left his leader’s quarters and made a break for the exit.  Transforming into his car form and kicking on his human hologram, he left the Ark.  There was actually more to do at HQ, but first things first; get out and get some fresh air, and on his own terms, not because of a mission.  He played the stereo for all it was worth, cruising up and down the city streets.

However, the more he drove, the more he had a chance to think; what if the ‘Cons showed up again, today?  That’s how yesterday pretty much was; a calm before the storm.  If one needed to be on constant alert outside, was it even worth going out?

No.  Jazz wouldn’t let such thoughts ruin his day.  He kept driving along, trying to push the nonsense from his mind…but the more he tried to ignore it, the more he thought about it.  It was just one day off…it’s not like the war was over, a wish he so desperately wanted fulfilled.

Everyone around the Ark hoped the war would end soon, especially poor Ratchet, who had to mend up the whole team on practically a daily basis.  No wonder he was so grouchy.  In fact, a certain air seemed to be flowing about lately; an air of desperation.  It was something that couldn’t really be seen, but felt.  The war was pretty much at a stalemate, and everyone was tired of it, especially the saboteur.  How he longed to just play his music in peace, without any interruptions, what so ever.  The battle the other day pretty much shattered that dream.  Slowly, but surely, he turned the radio off…suddenly, his day off didn’t feel so great…

The Porsche was so lost in his own thoughts, that he almost didn’t notice that he had driven right into City Park.  Then again, by the way it looked, why call it a city park?  If one went through it, he or she wouldn’t even know they were in the city; the half mile or so of land just had acres and acres of trees.  There were picnic tables scattered about, but for the most part, it was a forest.  The only hint of a city being next to it was the ribbon of road for cars to travel on; an action the Porsche was currently pursuing.  Right now, he seemed to be the only one around; apparently, no one wanted to go to the park that day.

Bored out of his mind, Jazz was about to turn the radio back on…when a noise decided to come wafting into his audios; a noise that actually made him stop.  It sounded like…music.  At first, he thought maybe it was just a passing car playing the radio too loud, but the more he listened, the more he realized that wasn’t the case.

This was the sound of a lone guitar.  He edged a little farther, with his spark racing, knowing this piece was being played live…and it was coming from somewhere in the park.  With his sharp audios to guide him, he slowly drove along the road; the sound getting stronger by the second, being echoed through the trees and carried across the wind.  Since his optics switched to his headlights, there was only so much the Porsche could look at in his car form, and he just had to find out where the music was coming from.  Without another thought, he transformed to his robot mode and continued the search.  Looking about, he reached into a tree, pulled back the branches…and stared at the sight that met his optics.

A black, steel bench stood in the middle of a clearing of trees.  Sitting on that bench, was the long, red-haired, blind girl he rescued the other day.  Her cane and sunglasses were lying next to her, and perched in her lap, was a large guitar.  It was a deep, cherry red color, with pearlish-silver strings, and from the spot she was sitting in, the sunlight shone down upon her, making her instrument glisten and her pale, blue eyes sparkle.  In fact, the light rays seeping through the trees acted like a kind of natural filter, projecting a warm glow upon her face, as if an angel had just dropped down in the thicket of trees.  Alone on the bench, the teen used her thumb and index finger to strum the guitar, producing a most seductive and calming melody.  After a few chords, she opened her mouth…and unleashed the most beautiful, heavenly voice that Jazz had ever heard in his whole life.

_I…I need some young blood_

_Come Friday night…bring on the big flood_

_Black September’s comin’ on…_

_Summer won’t be back for long…_

 

Her fingers gracefully danced along the strings; tapping her foot in time to the beat.  Instead of peeking through the tree, Jazz lowered himself so he was kneeling down below the branches; optics fixed on the girl.

 

_Hey…let’s start a big fire_

_Let’s shake it up…let’s try to burn brighter_

_T_ _here’s no one here to catch our fall…_

_No one here to hear us call…_

 

The saboteur almost let out a laugh.  Judging by what happened the other day, he’d have to disagree with that line.

 

_Tonight…this dirty September night_

_We’re stuck out here…got caught in the starlight_

_Runnin’ through these empty streets… The city’s built for you an’ me…_

_Runnin’ through these empty streets… The city’s built for you an’ me…_

 

Hey…didn’t the Cybertronians get caught in something?  Didn’t they get stuck on Earth?  By now, Jazz was sitting cross-legged on the grass, basked in the shade of the trees, completely emulated in her piece.

 

_I…I know that the road’s long_

_It lingers on…and Lord knows it’s uphill_

_Seems like you’re not getting anywhere… You give up just before you’re there…_

_Seems like you’re not getting anywhere… You give up just before you’re there…_

 

“Hey…dat’ sounds like…me…” Jazz thought.  She then closed her eyes; building up an energy inside.  Unleashing that pent up force, she raised her voice as if to ward off any who challenged her.

 

_Hey…don’t lose your spirit_

_Feel all alone…but it’s there if you need it_

_Seems like you’re not getting anywhere… But don’t give up, you’re almost there…_

_Seems like you’re not getting anywhere… But don’t give up, you’re almost there…_

 

From then on, the rest of the song was just strumming.  Never before had the saboteur heard such a song piece, nor heard a more beautiful voice.  Even the song itself seemed to be sending him a message; that everything would be alright.  He lived on a great planet, with even greater friends, who all cared for him and each other.  Together, they’ve taken on anything.  So what if the ‘Cons showed up; they’d beat them down just like he did yesterday.  All of a sudden, his sad thoughts earlier sounded really dumb; this song was the perfect pick me up.  The whole scene before him was a literal ray of hope.

By then, Jazz had a grin plastered on his face as the strumming stopped and the last timbers of the chords echoed off into the acres of City Park.  The girl had a smile on her face as well, opening her eyes to reveal their crystal-like radiance once again.  She then felt around for her sunglasses and put them back on…but not before wiping her eyes with her hand…was she crying?

“Howdy ho’, stranger”, she called out to the trees.

Jazz blinked in shock and shuddered in his position, “Howja’ know I was ‘ere?”

Again with the fan girl smile, “Jazz?  What’re you doin’ here?”

The Porsche got to his feet; careful about ducking the tree, and walked over to her, “Jus’ enjoyin’ ma’ day off.”  He sat down cross-legged in front of her, “Kayla, right?” The girl nodded, and he asked, “Howja’ know it was me?”

Kayla leaned her guitar on the edge of the bench and gave a chuckle, “I never forget a voice, especially a Southern/Cajun-twanged one that saved my life.”

Jazz smiled and tilted his head with interest, “Howja’ know I was sittin’ there?”

The teen heaved a sigh and grinned, looking up in his direction, “I could hear ya’ comin’ from a mile away; not too many people are tall enough to crackle leaves and tree branches at the peak…and can we try to stop answering questions with more questions?  This isn’t Whose Line ya’ know.”

A short pause, then the two burst out laughing.  Once they quieted down, the saboteur replied, “That’s a mighty beautiful voice ya’ got.”

Kayla tilted her head down in embarrassment, making her red hair come over her like window drapes.  She dug her foot into the grass, “Awww, come on…”

“Nah, really”, he said, “When I heard ya’ sing, it sounded like it was comin’ from da’ Matrix itself.” The exposed parts of the teen’s face were flushed red.  Realizing that she probably didn’t know what the Matrix was, he quickly added in, “Er…that’s Transformer’s Heaven.” The girl looked up in his direction again, intrigued in his belief in a robot heaven.  She was about to ask more about it, when Jazz replied, “Ya’ also played dat’ guitar like a dream.”

Kayla smiled and gave the top of the aforementioned instrument a pat, “Thanks.  I see you have an interest in ‘Old Reliable’.”

The Porsche rolled his optics at her choice of words, “Anythin’ involved wit’ music gets ma’ attention.” The teen raised an eyebrow, “Really?”

“Yeah”, the mech answered, “Classical, blues, rock n’ roll, country, ya’ name it!”

The red-head shook her head and chuckled, “No wonder you’re called ‘Jazz’.”  She gently placed her guitar back in her lap and strummed a chord, “Finally; someone to share the music with.”

The girl continued to play and Jazz listened for a minute or two.  He then asked, “So…’Old Reliable’, huh?”

“Yep”, she answered, “I’ve had my pride and joy since I was six.”

“ ‘Dat long?” the mech inquired, and the girl nodded.  No wonder she was so good.  As she continued to play, he swiveled his head back and forth, searching for any sign of her parents, but none were to be found, “Howja’ get ‘ere?”

“I walked”, she said, “House isn’t too far away.”

“Couldn’t yer’ folks take ya’?” he asked.

Kayla shook her head, “Mom always gotta’ hitch a ride ‘cause she doesn’t drive.”

Jazz tilted his head, “How come?”

Suddenly, the teen stopped strumming.  She blinked once or twice, and licked her lips, trying to find the right words, “Because…she’s scared…”  She let out a sigh, “…’cause the last time she drove…I think I was five…she had an accident.”  Her unseeing gaze shifted to the ground, “That’s why…I’m…”  She trailed off from there, shrugged, and swiped a hand by her face to explain the rest.

The saboteur’s optics widened behind his visor in shock; that explained the slight nervousness that came over her when she got in his cab the other day.  His head sank in sadness, not only for what happened to her, but making her talk about it.  He was about to apologize when she continued, “The whole guitar thing kinda' became like therapy.”  She leaned her instrument against the bench again, “My buddy down at the music store taught me how to play; wanted to teach me that blindness isn’t the same as useless.”

Jazz had to smirk at that, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling of being a total jerk, “Is dat’ why you were cryin’?”

A quizzical look came upon her face, “Huh?  Oh, no.  I just really like the song, that’s all.  I play it once in a while to keep me going; tells me to keep tryin’.”  She heaved a sigh, “Just wish mom could hear it.  I mean hear it, ya’ know?  One accident shouldn’t keep her down.  Dad got the picture; he’s been a military captain for years now.”  Kayla put her hands behind her head and leaned back, “It’s like the song says; ‘Don’t lose your spirit’…you can’t live in fear, ya’ know?”

Jazz nodded, now having full understanding of her “attack” on Skywarp.  He couldn’t help but smile, amazed at the bravery she possessed; there was something admirable about it.  But a frown quickly came upon him again, knowing he still didn’t apologize for the catastrophe earlier, “I’m sorry I…”

“You don’t have to apologize”, she interrupted; sitting up, “In fact, it’s the not talkin’ about it that makes me mad.  Anytime I meet someone, there’s always that…tension in the air, like they’re afraid they’re entering a taboo subject or somethin’, which is stupid.”

“How do ya’ know that?” the mech asked.

“Came with playin’ music”, Kayla explained, “Trained my listening skills; play me any song and chances are, I can play it right back for ya’.  Same thing with people; they’re all like instruments.  They play in different ways when it comes to certain situations; sometimes conversations give it away; other times, it’s tone of voice.  When your eyes have been dead for 12 years, you learn to see in other ways.”

Jazz was beaming at that point, fascinated by her human/instrument comparison.  Being a music connoisseur, he completely understood now, and said, “I get it.  Kinda’ like me an’ ma’ visor.  My visual sensors are slag compared ta’ most mechs, but ma’ audios n’ other senses make up fer’ it.”

Kayla smiled, “Exactly.  I think we just found some common ground.”

The Porsche continued grinning, relieved that he hadn’t upset her; at least it didn’t seem like it.  It was then that he reached into a compartment in his leg, and unsubspaced a little gift for her, “ ‘Ere lil’ lady, I got somethin’ fer’ ya’.”  He placed a small device in her hand; small by human standards.  He explained, “Dis’ ‘ere’s a communicator.  Since we have a couple a’ human friends at HQ, our scientist, Wheeljack, made em’ for em’, ta’ keep in touch on da’ go.  We always keep one on us in case we come ‘cross someone who might need it, an’ I think ya’ deserve it.  Jus’ flip da’ thing open an’ it’ll put ya’ through ta’ us.  You helped me, so I wanna’ help you.”

The little, red box took the shape of the Autobot symbol, and Kayla ran her fingers across it in utter joy, “Wow…thank you so much.  I’ll only call if there’s trouble; don’t wanna’ abuse the privilege.”

“Smart thinkin’,” Jazz replied; laying down on his side, “Why don’t ya’ play ‘nother song?  Da’ world needs a voice like yours.”

“You got it!” the teen exclaimed.  She quickly grabbed her guitar and began strumming a beautiful melody, which was a welcoming sound for the black and white Autobot, who’s day off turned out great.  The sound of music and the ‘Bot who came to listen echoed through the park the whole day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Some more insight into Kayla's character and a friendship blossoms...and for those wondering what "Old Reliable" was...well...now you know. And originally, I had a MUCH different scenario with her Dad, which I can't shed ANY light on 'till the sequel. 
> 
> The song Kayla sings here is called "Spirit" by the Caesars. I don't know if it's a well known song or not, but if you've never heard it, it's very beautiful.


	6. Chapter 6

Waiting…long periods of silence with nothing to do but kick the gravel under his feet…and waiting; the two things that Soundwave hated the most; next to having to listen to Starscream boast his vanity all fraggin’ day.

The dark blue, tape deck Decepticon was currently leaning against a brick wall in a dingy, dirty, alleyway on the outskirts of town.  He purposely chose this particular alley to have his stake out in because it was a dead end.  This way, he could keep watch on the only exit to the street.  Hopefully, no one would dare enter such a spooky haven, but just in case, he was backed up against the wall; his dark paint job and the afternoon shadows providing the perfect cover.  If worse came to worse, he could always transform into his tape deck mode, but for now, he didn’t wish to enter such a tiny, confined form if he didn’t have to. “First thing tomorrow, I need you to do a little spy work for me.  Locate any and all Autobots and find out what you can about this mysterious device.” Those were the words of Megatron that rang in his cranial unit as he waited for his top cassette to return.  Oh sure, Soundwave could’ve stayed at home base and let the cassettes out on their own, but if his leader took the trouble to get up, stand right in front of him, and tell him in person that he wanted a particular job done, chances are, it was extremely important to him.  He daren’t mess this up.  If his cassettes failed, he was standing by to complete the mission himself.

Just then, the “play” button on his armor started blinking, and Soundwave turned his red visor skyward; Laserbeak was returning.  The red and black, bird-looking creature was, at first, only a speck in the sky.  The tape deck told his minion ahead of time to fly a great distance off the ground, so as not to be seen by the populace.  But sure enough, the metallic falcon went into a dive, swooped up right before hitting the ground, and soared right into the alleyway.  After years of experience, the mech opened his chest without even thinking, and Laserbeak transformed into his cassette form and snuggled right into his master.

A minute went by as Soundwave processed the information the bird had acquired, and a minute was all he needed.  “Soundwave to base”, he said; comlinking his leader at HQ.

“Megatron here”, came the sinister, raspy voice on the other side of the line, “Status report.”

“I sent Laserbeak out on Operation: Spy”, the tape deck explained, “Our original destination was the Ark, but he detected a lone Autobot in a closer proximity to our location.”

“Spare me the guessing game”, the dictator hissed.

“It was the one known as Jazz”, the mech answered.

“And?  Did he reveal anything about the weapon?” the leader asked.

“Negative”, Soundwave continued, “He conversed with a human femme for a long period of time.  Request permission to continue to the Ark.”

There was a long pause before Megatron finally answered, “Wait a minute.  What did that Autobot and fleshling speak about?”

“The conversation’s subject matter is irrelevant to the mission”, the tape deck replied, knowing his leader wouldn’t care for the talk about bands, song lyrics, and music styles, “However, the Autobot seems to have a fondness for the human.”

“On a personal level?” the tyrant interjected.

“It would appear so”, the dark blue ‘Con said.

There was another pause before Megatron ordered, “Soundwave, there’s been a change of plan.  Looking back on it, even if we did get any information, it would take us awhile to build the weapon; materials are hard to come by when the world’s governments aren’t on your side, and it would waste valuable time.  Outright attacking the Autobots won’t get us anywhere either.  We’ll need to approach this from a different angle.  Find out where this human lives, then report back to base for a briefing…I have a better idea…”

“As you command, Megatron”, Soundwave replied.  With that, the line was cut, and the ‘Con opened his chest, unleashing his cassette again, “Laserbeak; follow the human.  Operation: Seek Out.”  The metallic bird let out a squawk and took off into the skies, leaving the tape deck to once again wait in the shadows of the alley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Soundwave the spy...   
> Whatever Megs has in store can't be good...


	7. Chapter 7

_Transformers-robots in disguise_

_Never met a villain that they liked_

 

“Aww, wait; that’s Teen Titans!”  Kayla said to herself, smacking her forehead, “Oh, forget it; that song idea’s stupid…it’s not like Hasbro’s givin’ em’ a toy deal or somethin’…”

The teenager trotted down the cement sidewalk of her neighborhood, tapping her white cane as she went; her prized guitar in a black, leather case, strapped on her back.  Right now, her cane told her everything she wanted to know about the ground; ten tiles; five to go before the next turn.  Knowing this, she started to pick up the pace; she had good reason to, and it made her heart jump.

Today, she was meeting the Autobots; the Autobots!  Her heroes!  Her black and white friend had given her the news after she finished another music piece in the park the other day.  She was already dumbfounded enough that she’d be friends with one of them; now she was meeting a whole bunch of them!  Jazz wanted to pick her up, but she insisted that she come to the Ark herself.  Mainly, it was to make sure that her mom didn’t know where she was going; no way was she telling her that a Decepticon almost cracked her like an egg.  Still, if she was going to be friends with Jazz, she’d have to tell her mom at some point.

Kayla would worry about that later.  She reached the end of the neighborhood; only a couple of blocks, and she’d be at the bus stop.  From there, it’d be smooth sailin’, and a music number she promised she’d perform for her new, robot friends.  Now, back to the crisis at hand; what song to play?  She couldn’t do Spirit; Jazz had enough of the Caesars for one day…maybe something with a Smash Mouth kinda’ punch…

All of a sudden, a sharp sound snapped the red-head from her train of thought.  She pulled her hair behind her ears to listen…sounded like…rustling bushes.  Despite living in a world of black, she swiveled her head at the noise…actually, because of the guitar on her back, she had to turn her whole body practically; it was just human nature to do so.  Naturally, nothing but more darkness met her eyes…but one thing she did take notice of, was that when she turned her body, the noise stopped.  She raised an eyebrow at the weirdness of it all, but after a minute of silence, she slowly turned back around…

“NOW!” yelled a voice.

Kayla darted around, but it was too late.  The bushes gave another rustle, and before she knew it, something grabbed her from behind and held her hands behind her back; something cold and metal…robots; Decepticons!  There were only two factions of transformers, and if this creep was trying to give her a full Nelson, odds are, these guys weren’t the Autobots.  She knew there was two of them because she heard the clank of metal in front of her, as well as the jerk behind her.  What was weird was how the fingers felt on her wrists; they were human sized, which meant these ‘Cons were probably no bigger than her.

Just then, a voice came from in front of her, “Nice work, Rumble.  We oughta’ do this stuff more often!”

Next, came the voice of the mech behind her, “Come on, Frenzy; Soundwave’s waitin’ for us!”

Rumble and Frenzy?  Nope; Kayla never heard of these two on the news.   But Soundwave, she recognized, and if these oversized wind up toys were with him, it spelt trouble for her.  Who knew what they wanted with her, and who cared?  She had to figure a way out, and fast.  The guy called Frenzy sounded like he was only one step away from her.  She swiveled the cane still clutched in her hand; pointed in some kind of direction, and cried, “Oh my God!  It’s R2-D2!”

Kayla heard some kind of gears clicking, and hoped it was the sound of him turning his head.  Thankfully, it was.  She immediately sent a white sneaker skyward and managed to kick Frenzy right in the chest section.  She then dug her feet into the sidewalk and pushed her whole body back as hard as she possibly could.  With the extra shove of the hard guitar case, Rumble toppled over, releasing his grip.  Now that she was free, she put both hands on her cane, held it out in front of her, and charged forward as if she were on the football team; bowling down Frenzy in the process.

The two ‘Cons got up to see their prey sprinting off down the road.  “After her!” Frenzy screamed.  With that, he took off down the street, leaving Rumble all alone, but he had his own plan in mind.  Turning his arms into pile-drivers, he slammed them into the concrete, and began pounding the ground as hard as he could, producing a large crack that snaked its way up to the girl.

The aforementioned teenager was running for all it was worth, dragging her cane on the ground to feel the cement tiles.  After years of experience, she had the whole neighborhood and a little of the grid pattern beyond it memorized to the letter.  Panting, she counted the tiles, “…six, seven, eight, nine, and…light post!”

She instantly took a sharp turn to the left, avoiding the lamppost she knew was coming up, and sprinted down another side street.  The mech pursuing her, however, wasn’t so lucky.  The crack in the pavement Rumble had caused, slithered up to the post, causing it to fall over.  Due to all his heavy metal, Frenzy couldn’t stop in time, and the lamppost tackled him, and had him on the ground, pinned.  Rumble rushed over to help his “brother”, while the humiliated ‘Con did nothing but curse. Meanwhile, Kayla held her cane out to the side to brush with the white picket fence next to her, and thought, “I hate to make all this noise, but if I don’t follow Mr. Cullen’s fence, I won’t know when Welker Street ends.  I think it’s time to call for backup.”

But just as she started to reach in her pocket for the communicator Jazz gave her, a wall decided to pop out of nowhere…that is, a wall of metal.  She rebounded off the sudden obstruction and landed on her back.  With the heavy guitar case holding her down, she felt like a turtle stuck on its shell.  Just then, giant, cold, metal fingers wrapped around her, and she was lifted up; her case left to lie on the ground.  “Oh no, not this again!” she yelled.

A slightly amused Starscream looked the teenager up and down, “Well, that was easy enough.  Honestly, were two ‘Cons required for this?  Why am I here?”

“Insurance”, answered a newly-arrived Soundwave, who had long since stored away his bumbling cassettes.

Kayla squirmed in Starscream’s grip.  Unlike before, her arms were pinned to the sides of her body, and being squished, she couldn’t reach her communicator.  Even if she did get loose, there’d be no Autobots to catch her this time.  With no other choice, she cried out the only word she could think of, “HELP!”

The red and blue ‘Con quickly used his thumb to cover her mouth, “Ah-ah; we don’t want you bringing the police.”  He then added in with a shrug, “Not like they could do anything anyway.”  He turned to address hi s comrade, “Soundwave; let’s go!”

The tape deck was currently hunched over, prodding the girl’s case that was on the ground, “I wish to explore the contents of the case.”

But red, blue, and nasty was quick to interject, “We’re attracting too much attention as it is; just grab everything and let’s go!” With that, Starscream flung the teenager into the air and transformed into his jet mode.  The girl landed in the cockpit, and Soundwave threw her case in with her.  The dark blue mech transformed as well, into his small, tape deck form, and hopped in too.  Their mission complete, the two Decepticons departed with their victim without a trace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Kayla's been kidnapped! Now what?!  
> And did ya' catch the 3 Easter eggs? I'll give ya' a hint: a famous company, and 2 more actors...


	8. Chapter 8

“I’ll never understand you”, Starscream growled.

“Excellent deduction; it only took you a few millennia”, Megatron quipped.

While leader and wanna-be leader argued amongst themselves, Kayla listened in silence, using her guitar case as a makeshift chair.  She would’ve made a run for it, if it weren’t for the electrified cage around her, and the problem of the Decepticon base being underwater.

After Starscream and Soundwave returned to HQ with their captive, the first thing Megaton did was slap her in the brig.  It didn’t take long for them to notice her disability, but they were quite perplexed at the cane she always held on to.  The tape deck did a quick search on their database, and upon learning its function, he promptly broke it.  Then, came the mystery of what was in the little black box.  A cherry red guitar met everyone’s optics, and the leader did a quick scan.  Finding nothing important in it or about it, he, to the surprise of all, let her keep it.  To abolish his troops’ suspicions of his gracious-looking act, he added in that maybe the human could become a new source of entertainment for them, like a pet.

Kayla, on the other hand, was no way in heck going to be anyone’s pet.  An angry scowl plastered on her face, she crossed her arms and starred blankly at the floor.  She thanked the Lord almighty that the ‘Cons didn’t find the communicator shoved in her pocket, but with them all standing around, there was no way she could use it without being caught.  So, for now, she’d just have to stay calm and wait for her chance.

Although, staying calm was proving difficult.  The teen couldn’t help but be scared, knowing that she was a prisoner of the Decepticons; had no clue what they were going to do to her, and no safe way to call for help.  What if she never heard Jazz again?  What if she never heard Mom again?

A tear almost escaped her, but she quickly drew in a breath and sucked it up.  Crying wasn’t going to do her any good, and neither was panicking.  Her thoughts went to her dad in the reserves, and she remembered a story he relayed to her about how they interrogated POW’s; everyone has a weakness, he told her.  With that in mind, she tuned back in to her captors’ conversation.  Thunderhead and Skyjerk seemed to be mumbling something about energon portions…and Jet Screamer always seemed to be disagreeing with his leader’s ways of running the show…maybe she could use that to her advantage…

Suddenly, the red-head heard the sound of large footsteps coming toward her.  She tilted her head skyward; put up a steely reserve, and braced herself for the interrogation she figured was coming.   But whatever they wanted, she wasn’t going to give it to them, and even though there wasn’t much she could do physically since they towered over her, that couldn’t stop her from annoying them.  Sure, it might get her killed, but if she remained quiet, she was dead anyway.  At least she might as well get the last laugh.

“I still don’t get it”, Starscream grumbled as he walked over to the cage, “Why was I ordered to bring a fleshling into our headquarters?”

Megatron shot him a glance, “Because we need bait.  And don’t worry your idiotic head; the human is blind; she can’t do anything.”  Kayla’s eyes narrowed in anger at the comment.  The dictator leaned forward and put his face as close as he could to the prison, “Now, my dear, if that low grade saboteur is your friend, surely you must know something about the Autobots.  Tell me what you know.”

The teenager growled in disgust at the insult of her best friend.  She wasn’t about to be taken down by a guy who sounded 80 years old and in need of a cough drop.  Her face flushed red and she yelled, “Up yours, Megadork!  I’m tellin’ you jack squat!”

The tyrant growled at the insult thrown right back at him.  Starscream, on the other hand, let out a cry of frustration, “Oh, for Primus sake, just kill her!”

The leader whirled around and got right in his face, “Starscream, your endless babbling has worked my last nerve.”  He pointed at Kayla, “This human is the key to acquiring the weapon, and she’s going to stay alive until I say we don’t need her anymore!”

Fed up with the whole prisoner nonsense, the wanna-be leader stormed out of the room.  Megatron then turned to his two minions standing off to the side, “Thundercracker; Skywarp; keep a close optic on her; I’ll be back.”  With that, the tyrant left the room.

The two F-15 jets moseyed up to the cage and stared her down.  Thundercracker let out a sigh of boredom; what was the girl going to do anyway?  And Skywarp was not pleased to be back in the company of the wretched fleshling who poked him in the optic; that sucker still hurt.  Bored out of their minds, the mechs started to turn around…until the teenager spoke, “Thundercracker, right?”

The deep blue ‘Con turned to face her, and saw that she had risen from her seat on the guitar case.  Her arms were still folded, and her head was toward the ceiling.  He looked at her quizzically before answering, “Yeah…what’s it to ya’?”

Upon hearing his voice, Kayla turned in the direction it came from, “You don’t sound like a guy who does this stuff for free.  What’s Megatron giving you for all this?”

Nobody ever asked him that before.  To humor her, he answered, “A seat on world power.  And energon; by the cube load.”

The teen let out a whistle, “Really?”  She then nodded in Skywarp’s general direction, “As much as he’s getting?”

The blue mech never thought of that.  He cast his comrade a suspicious glance, “I don’t know…”

The girl removed her sunglasses and did a head flick, “Think about everything you’ve put up with.  You should be getting way more.”

Skywarp looked to his long time associate with amusement and chuckled, “Thundercracker get more than me?  Pfft.  That’s stupid.”  He waved his hand as if warding off a fly and strode off.

Kayla turned back to the blue jet and raised an eyebrow, “Is it?” The F-15 cranked his head to see his purple and black comrade pacing about impatiently.  The blue jet’s look of suspicion turned to one of anger, and he growled.

Meanwhile, on another side of the base, Megatron sat upon his throne, strumming his fingers as he thought.  He had his captive, now to figure out how to contact the Autobots.  Maybe he could have Soundwave pre-record a message and deliver it to them.  The only problem was him trying to give the threat without the ‘Bots tearing him to shreds first…

Suddenly, there came the sound of a large boom, and the whole floor started to vibrate.  The dictator immediately darted from his chair and made a dash for the brig.  There were only five ‘Cons in the base if Soundwave and his cassettes counted as one person.  The tape deck, the red and blue jet, and himself were all in the room together, and he left the two F-15’s with the girl, so where else could the commotion be coming from?  Soundwave remained at his post, but Starscream decided to follow the leader; he wasn’t doing anything else and was just as curious about the earthquake.

The tremors got more and more violent as Megatron neared the brig.  He then burst into the room and starred at the sight that met his optics.  The amount of destruction is too much to describe; let’s just say that a table, five chairs, the light fixtures, a computer screen, and the metallic walls were involved.  In the middle of it all, two jets rolled about the floor, kicking, screaming, and trying to do the other one in.  Thundercracker yelled, “I’m gonna’ fill your aft full of inorganic foot!”  He proceeded to strangle his opponent.

Between breaths, Skywarp managed out, “Take…that…back!”  He then gave his ex-comrade a good sock in the jaw.

However, both ‘Cons instantly froze at the sound of Megatron’s voice, “Cease this dumb-foolery this instant!”  The two of them turned to see the look of fury upon their leader’s face, “You bumbling idiots are more incompetent than Starscream!”  The jets rose to their feet in embarrassment, but before they could apologize, the dictator screamed, “GET OUT!”

That sent them running full tilt for the exit, without looking back.  As soon as they left, the leader walked over to the cage.  Kayla was sitting upon her case again, a half grin clearly showing.  Despite knowing of her blindness, the tyrant still shot her a nasty glance, and mumbled, “You’re becoming more trouble than it’s worth…”

The teen’s grin was replaced with a look of annoyance, and she spat, “Speak for yourself…”

Megatron growled in rage, then turned his head at the sound of footsteps coming his way.  It was revealed to be the leader wanna-be, who was practically run over by two F-15 jets moments before.  The dictator motioned him to come over, “Starscream; take over here.”  The mentioned jet strode over and Megatron added in as he passed him, “If this organic pest causes any more trouble, you know what to do…”  With that, he left the room once more.

The red and blue mech crossed his arms and mumbled, “Why didn’t we do it in the first place, you fraggin’, overgrown…”

Kayla casually leaned back on her “chair” and was quick to interrupt his rant, “Not much of a leader, is he?”

Starscream heaved a sigh, then turned to her, “That’s what I keep say-“  His optics widened, realizing what he was saying, and he grimaced at her, “Stop that!”  He then pointed, “Don’t try anything funny, because I’m not one to be persuaded easily.”

To his surprise, the teen smiled up in his direction, “Of course not.  You’re too smart for that.  I didn’t say a thing and Thunderhead and Skyjerk were at each other’s throats.”

Starscream cast her a quizzical glance, and his optic went wide; the equivalent of raising and eyebrow.  Fascinated by her logic, he slowly drawled, “Go on…”

.

.

.

_“Michael, wait.  I can only use my turbo boost for emergencies.”_

_“Well I’m usin’ it!”_

“I hate Knight Rider…” Sunstreaker mumbled; his arms crossed, “The car doesn’t have a personality; it’s just an AI system.”

From across the couch, the Lambo twin’s brother, Sideswipe, tried to give a defense, “Well, remember; it was the 80’s.  I think it’s kinda’ cool.  ‘Sides; we could be watchin’ Sister Sister.”

“Suite Life of Zach and Cody does the twin thing more justice”, the yellow Lamborghini barked.

“Guys!” yelled a voice.  The two Autobots peered down to see their human friend, Spike, looking up at them with annoyance as he sat between them, “Either clam up and watch the show, or I’m turning it off.”

With that, the twins settled down.  But no sooner did the show end, Optimus Prime stepped in front of them, blocking the view, “Sorry you three, but I have some reports to fill out; I need Teletraan-One.”

Spike and Sideswipe let out a groan while Sunstreaker whispered, “Thank Primus.”  The leader pushed a button, and the monitor went back from being a TV, to a computer screen.  As he typed away, the human and his ketchup and mustard-colored friends simply remained on the couch with nothing better to do.  There was no Decepticon activity reported, so the Autobots were free to enjoy the peaceful moment.

At that point in time, Jazz entered the room and strolled up to his leader, who was busy at the computer, “Say, Prime?”  The mech looked up to give his comrade his attention.  The saboteur continued, “Have ya’ heard from Kayla yet?”

“The human girl you invited over?” Optimus asked.  When Jazz nodded, he shook his head, “No, sorry.  But if she does call, Teletraan-One is sure to receive it.”

The Porsche let out a sigh of frustration, “I’m gettin’ kinda’ worried.  It’s almost four a’ clock n’ she still ain’t ‘ere yet.”

“Didn’t you say this girl is blind?” Spike asked, “Why didn’t you drive her here?”

Jazz turned to his human friend seated on the couch, “I wanted ta’; ‘sisted on doin’ it.  But she ‘sisted on comin’ herself; thought it’d be a ‘nice challenge’.  Plus, she didn’t want her mom findin’ out…maybe I betta’ call her…”

“If this chick’s got the amount of guts you say she does, then I’d wait”, Sunstreaker replied, “It’d hurt her pride; it would for me.”

“Yeah, just give her some time; she’ll be here”, Sideswipe added in, “Besides, if she ‘s havin’ trouble, she’ll call.”

But none of his friend’s words could relieve Jazz’s worry.  True, she would call if she was in trouble, but still, where could she be?  After a long pause, he finally answered, “Fifteen minutes; then I call her.”  Everyone left the argument at that and nodded in agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Now's probably a good time to insert my own observation regarding the seekers:
> 
> I've watched G1 10 times over, and never once, did I see any indication that Thundercracker and Skywarp were buddies, so, I honestly don't know where fans are getting this from. Maybe it was indicated in the comics or something, but I never read the comics, and this is souly based off the cartoon, so I'm going by what I see.
> 
> In the case of villians in general, I go by Batman's theory that villians are, "a supersticious and cowardly lot." It's the reason most villian teams never win; they don't get that you need to trust each other in order to succeed.
> 
> Approaching the 'Cons like a supervillian team, Megs and Screamer are the leaders, while I treat the other seekers like TC and 'Warp and underlings like Rumble and Frenzy as the "henchmen". Megs is a guy who won't belittle himself with a job like this; he sends his cronies to do it, and only steps in when they start screwing up.
> 
> So, in short, I can totally see TC and 'Warp letting greed get the better of them.


	9. Chapter 9

“Why are you so interested in me?” Starscream asked.

“Because I think you can do better”, Kayla answered.  She had abandoned her seat on her guitar case and was casually pacing about, talking up in his general direction, “I mean, think about it; you’re taking orders from a guy who’s alternate form is a gun.  Shouldn’t the more powerful jet be running the show?”

The human had certainly started an interesting conversation, and the Decepticon rubbed hi s chin in thought.  She did have a point; who was he to take orders from a giant gun that needed to be handled in battle half the time?

“Without you, he’s nothing”, the teen continued, “And he knows it, which is why he’s becoming too bossy for his own good.  Besides, isn’t it time for some younger blood to be on that throne?  Someone who’s a little more everyone’s speed?”

The girl sat back down and the mech narrowed his optics at her, “You’re just trying to trick me.”

Kayla shrugged, “I’m just stating the facts.”

Starscream stared at her in silence, mentally scolding himself.  He shouldn’t have spoken to her in the first place; it’s never a good idea to make small talk with a prisoner.  Still…he couldn’t shake the feeling that this human was actually right; maybe it was time for him to take action.

At that moment, Megatron entered the brig.  Before he got too close, Kayla whispered to the jet, “Think about it.”  After giving her one last look, Starscream turned around to face his leader, who still seemed to be in a sour mood.  The dictator started to open his mouth, but then shot his prisoner a suspicious glance; that fleshling was causing them enough trouble; best for her to not hear their conversation.  With a silent flick of his hand, he waved the wanna-be leader a bit farther from the cage, and the two villains discussed among hushed voices.

The receding footsteps and low, unintelligible walla signaled the teen that her captors must have stepped further away from her prison; maybe this was the chance she was waiting for.  She sat back down on her guitar case and very slowly, she turned around so her back was to the ‘Cons.  Then, as quietly, and discretely as she could, she pulled the communicator that Jazz gave her out of her pocket. “Jus’ flip da’ thing open, an’ it’ll put ya’ through ta’ us.” “Let’s hope the Jazzman was right about that statement”, Kayla prayed to herself.  True, she could’ve tried while Thunderhead and Skyjerk were having their little tussle, but then she would’ve had to shout over all the ruckus, and that was defiantly not good.  Just as her friend instructed, the girl snapped open the Autobot insignia-shaped red box, and held it to her ear.  “Hello…hello?” she whispered.  After about a second of silence, the sound that answered her back made all the color drain from her face, and her hopeful look turned to one of horror.

Static.  All that came back…was static.

“Oh Lord…please…no…” was all she could muster out, realizing that it wouldn’t have mattered when she used it, because it didn’t work.  Her only chance of escape; gone.  Slowly, she lowered her arm in dismay.

Suddenly, everything went up in smoke when Starscream yelled out, “Hey!  What’s that?!”

Again, being it was human instinct, she whipped her head around and gasped, “Busted…!”

Sure enough, Megatron stormed over and, after shutting off the electric barrier, opened the cage; grabbing her rather roughly.  She knew what he wanted, and this time, she didn’t put up a fight.  It was pointless to run around the prison and try to dodge him; there was nowhere to run, and he wouldn’t have stopped until he caught her.  She wasn’t a coward, but she wasn’t stupid either.  The leader pried the communicator out of her hands, then threw her back in the jail.  It took her a minute to shake off the pain of the fall, but when she finally rose, she heard him discussing the blocky cell phone he discovered.

“So…” he said in a sly tone as he examined the communicator, “It would appear that your friend gave you a parting gift.  Excellent…”

“What do you mean?” Starscream asked.

Megatron shot him a look of annoyance, “Don’t you see?!  I told you, I’ve been planning to hold the fleshling for ransom.  Why spend months trying to make the device when we can have it ready and hand-delivered to us?”  He pointed a finger at him, “That’s what you never understand; the Autobots care; you must attack their spark first.”

“What does that have to do with the communicator?” the wanna-be leader asked.

“In my haste to capture the human, I over looked the problem of trying to deliver the message to them”, the tyrant explained, “But now, I have my answer.”  He held the red box up as if he were showing off a trophy.

“The human in exchange for the device, huh?” the red and blue jet quipped, “You don’t really think the Autobots will simply do this, do you?”

The leader sneered at him, “Of course not!  The whole thing will be a distraction.  When we get to location, I’ll have the girl and appear as myself, but all of you will be holographically projected next to me, so the Autobots will stay together.”

“And the real us?” Starscream interjected.

“While the exchange is going on, all of you will surround the enemy”, the dictator explained, “When the deal is sealed, you all will ambush the ‘Bots.”

“And just how do ya’ plan on callin’ em’?” Kayla barked from her seat, “When I tried, all I heard was static.”

Megatron let out a hideous chuckle, “Apparently, you’ve never heard of a jamming frequency.  We placed one in the headquarters so no one could hack our computers.”  He then turned to address his lackey, “Starscream; lower the EMP shield and open a channel.”  The jet’s optics darted back and forth between his leader and the girl.  A moment later, he hesitantly walked over to a neighboring control panel and carried out the command.

As the mech typed away in silence, it gave Kayla time to think.  So, the whole thing was nothing but a set up?  Somehow, she wasn’t surprised.  Judging by all the arguments she overheard earlier, the Decepticons were nothing but dirty, double-crossers.  And now, the Autobots were being led right into a trap.  But she wasn’t prepared to sit there like a bump on a log; she wasn’t about to be the helpless blind girl everyone thought she was.  There had to be something she could do.  Whatever this device was they were talking about, it must have committed a doosey of an overhaul if the ‘Cons wanted it so badly, but anything in the hands of a ‘Con spelt trouble.  Her hands clenched into fists as she screamed at herself for being so afraid earlier; it didn’t matter what happened to her; the whole world was in danger if the ‘Cons could pull this off.  There had to be some way she could warn the Autobots of the impending danger.  If she couldn’t tell them what was going on, then at the very least, she could convince them to stay away.

At first, she considered to just blurt it out, but then realized that, in the long run, it wouldn’t work.  Megatron would have to change his tactics, then there’d be no way for her to try and tell her friends of the difference in plans.  There had to be another way; something along the lines of Pig Latin or Morse Code; a language that her friends would understand so her captors weren’t aware of her heads up.  But what?

Sitting on her makeshift chair, she ran her hands across the black, leather case, and suddenly, the teen was struck with an idea.  Wasn’t music a universal language?  Just then, her memories shifted back to that day in City Park.

_“Anything involved wit’ music gets ma’ attention.  Classical, blues, rock n’ roll, country, ya’ name it!”_

Jazz’s words rang true; he had a whole archive of music; he was an expert…and on that day, he met an expert player…

“EMP shield down; channel open, ” Starscream said from his place at the computer.

“At last…” Megatron hissed as he flipped open the blocky cell phone.

Immediately, Kayla shifted her seat to the floor, and she opened the gold latches on her case with practiced swiftness.  For the first time since being captured, the cherry red guitar with the pearlish-silver strings showed itself.  After a quick tune up, she got into position and waited for the tyrant to begin speaking.  Suddenly, the disaster of the captor finding the communicator wasn’t so bad after all…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hmmm...sounds like Kayla's got a plan...


	10. Chapter 10

“Ok; time’s up”, Jazz replied, “I don’t care if she’s ten feet in front a’ da’ door; I’m callin’ her.”  That said, the saboteur started striding over to Teletraan-One, where Optimus Prime was still busy, working.  The Lambo twins and Spike were still sprawled out on the couch, but were soon accompanied by Prowl, Bumblebee, and Wheeljack, who had Sparkplug sitting on his shoulder.

“Hey, dad”, Spike greeted, “How’s that new weapon coming along?”

Wheeljack gently put Sparkplug on the ground, and said father answered him, “Ol’ Jack n’ I just finished it.  ‘Course, we couldn’ta’ done it without Jazz testin’ it first.  Speakin’ a’ which, is that new girlfriend a’ his comin’ over?”

“Hope so”, his son said with a smile, “After hearing about her ‘battle’ with Skywarp, this is one girl I gotta’ meet.”  He couldn’t help but laugh at the memory of the tale the Porsche had told everyone a few days ago.  By all accounts, even Prime seemed a bit taken aback at the stamina this girl was told to have.  Humans sure are brave, Prowl replied at one point.  Now, the mysterious heroine was nowhere to be found, and Jazz, who was usually able to conceal his negative emotions, was clearly fed up.  He was going to figure out what was going on, one way or another.  Hearing him approach, Optimus slid over to give his friend the controls.

But just as the black and white mech was about to push a button, a light on the control panel started blinking and beeping; an incoming call.  This had to be her.  Without missing a beat, he pressed the button to put the call on speaker phone, and asked, “Kayla!  Are ya’ there?  I was jus’ ‘bout ta’ call ya’.  Ya’ need help?”

But instead of the expected beautiful and angelic voice he so craved, this voice was deep, raspy…and laced with evil, “No, but you can help me to help save your human pet!”

Instantly, the room went dead silent.  Anyone who was sitting in a chair rose from them, and anyone who was already standing froze in place.  All eyes and optics were on Teletraan-One; more specifically, the loud speaker.  After what seemed like an eternity, the saboteur just barely came around from his shock and horror, and muttered only one word, in a tone much like Optimus, “Megatron…”

“Correct…” the dictator hissed on the other side of the line, “I hear you are precise in your listening skills, so let’s put them to a test, shall we?  I have your useless, human friend as my prisoner.  She is fine now, but that can change in an instant.  If you are as smart as your resident scientist, Wheeljack, you will do exactly as I say.  Thundercracker and Skywarp informed me of a device you used on them not long ago.  Bottom line: I want it.  From the Ark’s position, you will travel ten miles west.  There, you will see me and my fellow Decepticons with your friend, ready to make the exchange for the device.  Do not try coming in disguise, for we already know what your vehicle forms look like.  And no funny business.  We get the device; you get the girl.  Be there in exactly one Earth hour…I’ll be waiting…”  With that, the line was cut.

For almost a full minute, the room was quiet; one could’ve cut the tension with a knife.  But then, everyone was startled into alertness when Jazz’s legs seemed to give out on him, and he slumped to the floor; a hand over his face.  He didn’t curl up in a ball, per say, but it was painfully clear that the whole world appeared to have suddenly dropped on him.  For some, it was actually kind of creepy…no one had ever seen him look so…vulnerable before.

“J-Jazz…” Spike started.

“I’ve always-followed…ma’ Primus-given instincts…why-didn’t-I…now?” the Porsche managed out from his seat on the floor, “I…shoulda’ called her…it’s ma’ fault…”  The mech could hardly think straight.  All his thoughts were on the girl; who knew what kind of dastardly things that evil maniac was doing to that innocent, red-haired angel?  And he was to blame…if anything happened to her, he’d never be able to live with the guilt.

Suddenly, the saboteur felt something take hold of him; two somethings actually.  It was the only thing that made him look up to see that the whole collection of teammates in the room had gathered around him.  The two somethings turned out to be Optimus Prime and Prowl, who had a hand on each of his shoulders to give as much support as they could.

“Jazz”, the tactician began, his logical demeanor still about him, “We don’t know how long she’s been there.  He might have snatched her hours before.  In any case, none of that matters now.”

“I know this is hard for you”, the leader continued as calmly as he could, “It is for all of us.  But when innocent people are harmed by our war, I’m the one who should be responsible.  It’s not your fault, and we’ll do everything in our power to bring Kayla back.”

Jazz inhaled a deep breath, as his comrades’ words of encouragement brought him out of his depressed countenance.  Spurred with energy, he pushed himself to his feet; his visor glowing intensely, “You’re right, an’ sittin’ ‘ere, mopin’ ain’t gonna’ get ma’ best friend back.  Let’s do dis’!”

With the Porsche up and about again, everyone clicked back into gear.  As he usually did when he was in deep thought, Prime began to pace back and forth as he eyed his teammates.  Slipping back to his command voice, he said, “Alright team; we have a hostage situation in our hands, and a young life is at stake.  In exchange for her, Megatron wants the Magna Ray.”

“But we can’t give it to him!” Wheeljack exclaimed, head fins flaring, “Who knows what he’ll do if he gets it!”

“I don’t think we have much of a choice”, Bumblebee replied.

As the team continued to review their options, Jazz stared forlornly at Teletraan-One; lost in thought.  There was something about that message that bothered him, besides the obvious.  He was quick to interrupt the conversation, “Guys.”  The talking ceased and everyone turned to face the saboteur.  He continued, “When Megatron sent dat’ message, did any of ya’ notice a sound in da’ background?”

Most of the ‘Bots looked at each other and shrugged.  However, Spike spoke up; a look of realization on his face, “Come to think of it, yeah.”

The Porsche turned to Prowl, “Anytime a call is sent out, it’s routed through Teletraan-One first, right?”

The police car nodded, “Yes.  Teletraan-One records all the day’s messages for later reference; helps with the log books.”

Immediately, the black and white mech began typing on the control panel, “In dat’ case, let’s play back dat’ message.  ‘Dis time, we’ll drop out da’ voice an’ see what dat’ noise was.”

In no time at all, the schematics for Teletraan’s synthesizer came on screen.  Running the latest file through it, the saboteur stayed true to his word and deleted the raspy voice no one wished to hear again.  He then clicked the “play” button, and everyone watched in anticipation.  Soon enough, a sound did emerge from the computer’s speakers; the timbre of an instrument; a guitar.  While most of the mechs did the best impression of raising a brow, Jazz instantly recognized the contemporary piece and reveled in the sound.

“Kayla…” he said in an almost breathy way; turning to the group, “ ‘Dat’s Kayla playin’ her guitar!”  The Porsche heaved a sigh of semi-relief.  It was a sign from Primus; his friend was still alive.

“Yeah”, Sparkplug interjected; a quizzical look on his face, “But what’s she playin’?  It sounds familiar…”  Everyone listened for a few seconds as the noise wafted into their audios.  The human had a point; there was something oddly familiar about the piece being played.  It took a minute, but eventually, the mechanic spoke up again, “Is that…Purple People Eater…?”

“It is”, Jazz answered, “I have it in ma’ archives.”

“Oh-kay…why is she playing a Halloween song?” Bumblebee piped up.

Just then, the tune suddenly stopped, and a second later, a new one started playing.  The Porsche rubbed his chin in thought, then pushed a button to rewind the message.  “Why are you playing it back again?” Prowl asked.

“She didn’t play da’ whole song”, the saboteur explained, “She strummed a snip it, then went ta’ somethin’ else.  ‘Der must be a reason why.”  With that, he pushed “play” once again, and soon enough, the music started.  Only this time, the mech began to sing the lyrics to the song being played.

_Well I saw the thing comin’ outta’ the sky_

_It had one long horn, and one big eye_

_Well I commenced to shakin’ and I said “ooh-ee” I_

_t looks like a purple people eater to me_

_It was a one-eyed, one-horned, flyin’ purple people eater_

_One-eyed, one-horned, flyin’ purple people eater_

_One-eyed, one-horned, flyin’ purple people eater_

_Sure looks strange to me_

_Well he came down to Earth and he lid in a tree_

_I said Mr. Purple people eater, don’t eat me_

_I heard him say in a voice so gruff_

_I wouldn’t eat you ‘cause you’re so tough_

At that point, the song stopped, and Jazz quickly paused the recording.  Sunstreaker stepped forward, clearly annoyed, “Okay, thanks for the singin’ lesson, but what does stupid, made up monsters gotta’ do with anything?”

But the black and white mech didn’t answer him.  Instead, he turned to look down at Spike, and replied, “I need ya’ help on ‘dis next one.  I recognized da’ tune, but I don’t know da’ words.”

The boy gave his friend a reassuring nod, and the ‘Bot proceeded to play more of the message.  The next guitar piece was a little slower than Purple People, but still in the genre of rock n’ roll…actually, more of a pop song kind of sound.  Almost immediately, Spike’s eyes lit up, “Hey…I know this one; it’s a Hannah Montana song.”

“Quick; how’s it go?” Jazz asked.  On cue, the boy began to sing as best he could.

_I know where I stand, I know who I am_

_I would never run away when life gets bad_

_It’s everything I see, every part a’ me_

_I know I can change the world, yeah, yeah, yeah_

_I know whatcha’ like, I know whatcha’ think_

_Not afraid to stare you down until you blink_

_It’s everything I see, every part of me_

_Gonna’ get what I deserve_

_I_ _got nerve_

Like before, the music stopped when the last word escaped the teen’s mouth, and the Porsche paused the recording once again.  However, all eyes and optics were on Spike; stupefied at the weirdness of him singing.  It was Sideswipe who finally broke the awkward silence, “Um…you know these lyrics how?”

The boy rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment, “Carly’s the fan; gotta’ listen to it constantly…”

Optimus Prime finally cut in, “Please, Jazz, don’t keep us in the dark.  It’s obvious you have an idea as to what’s going on.  What does this all mean?”

The saboteur turned to address his comrades, “Don’t ya’ guys notice ‘dat Kayla’s only playin’ snip its a’ songs?  I think she’s only playin’ what she wants us ta’ hear.”

“Well, what does she want us to hear?” Wheeljack asked.

“Da’ lyrics”, Jazz answered, “Listen ta’ what da’ words are.  Purple People Eater says stuff ‘bout things comin’ outta’ da’ sky, an’ beggin’ ta’ not be eaten.  ‘Dat sounds suspiciously like a certain kidnappin’ ‘dat musta’ happened earlier today.”  The mechs in the room just looked at each other and the Porsche continued, “An’ what ‘bout dat’ next song?  ‘Bout not runnin’ away or bein’ afraid; ‘dat she’s got nerve.  Now dat’ sounds like Kayla ta’ me; bearin’ wit’ it, no matta’ what life throws at her.”

One could almost see the gears turning in everyone’s heads, and Prowl replied, with a look of realization, “Hey, yeah…I think I know where you’re going with this.”  The other mechs began nodding as well; getting the picture.

A new air of hope filled the room as Jazz finally stated what was on everyone’s mind, “You’re right; our friend’s tryin’ ta’ tell us somethin’.  We need ta’ play da’ rest of da’ recordin’ an’ find out what she’s playin’.  She’s usin’ da’ lyrics ta’ send us a message.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: And the title finally comes into play.


	11. Chapter 11

Megatron had a scowl on his face as he sat at a computer console in the brig.  It was clear by now that no one could be trusted with the simple task of watching the prisoner.  Wait; he took that back; Soundwave could be trusted, but he was busy with other duties assigned to him.  Thundercracker and Skywarp produced disastrous results; it’d take over a week to repair the damage those two idiots caused.  As for Starscream, his guard duty shift seemed a little too quiet.  Ever since then, he’d cast very peculiar glances at his leader, and the dictator didn’t like it.  He’d have to investigate as to what went on in the room later.  All n’ all, the whole day made the leader learn that if you want something done, you have to do it yourself, which explained his presence in the brig.  He was trying to do his work in peace, but a certain fleshling was proving that to be difficult.

_Come on and do the jailhouse rock with me, let’s rock_

_Everybody, let’s rock_

“For Primus sake, will you ciece that insulting mouth of yours!” the tyrant yelled to the cage behind him.  Ever since he made the ransom call, the fleshling just wouldn’t stop playing her instrument.  He almost wished he hadn’t smashed the communicator, or he would’ve called his enemies back and told them they could have the girl.  This bargain-based noise the humans called “music” was driving him up the wall, and he started reconsidering his decision to keep her for entertainment.

However, Megatron’s ranting fell upon deaf ears as Kayla continued to strum.  She prayed that her message got through to the Autobots, but now, as long as she had her wooden friend pulled out, she might as well put it to a satisfying use.  As mentioned before, she couldn’t harm her captors physically, but that couldn’t stop her from annoying them, or screwing with their heads.  She already gave those first three goons a good “beating”, and now, it was high time to mess with Megadork himself.  She previously went through 99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall, and now three rounds of Jailhouse Rock seemed to be taking its toll.  What next?

_It’s a small world after all_

“Silence!” Megatron cried; slamming a fist on the keyboard.  He let out a growl of frustration and swiveled to face his prisoner, “I wouldn’t do such things if I were you, and you daren’t get me riled.  One more note, and I can assure you that your punishment won’t be pleasant.”

The only answer he received from the teen was her sticking out her tongue in insult.  He narrowed his optics and turned away.  Kayla, however, already knew darn well that he was riled up, and she, quite frankly, didn’t care.  Once she realized she was needed as a hostage, she knew that he couldn’t do anything to her, or his plan wouldn’t work.  Although, she did pause for a minute or two, it was just to think.  She felt like a punch drunk fighter throwing a last, desperate left hook, and with that, she began to strum again, hoping for a miraculous knock out.

She had no idea her world was about to come crashing down.

_May the rain keep fallin’ on your head_

_I’ll make you pay for all the tears I bled_

_May you die alone in your bed_

_Baby, one day, you will wake up dead_

“THAT’S IT!” the dictator screamed.  He swiveled in the chair, jumped out of it, and took one, big leap to the prison, all in one, fluid motion.  Blood-red optics burned in rage, as he knew those lyrics were directed at him, personally.  With just one swoop of the hand, he swatted away the cage, making it fly and crash into the nearby wall.  The teen instinctively put her hands over her head, not expecting the sudden outburst.  The tyrant then reached for her, “I’VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS INFERNAL CONTRAPTION!”

Before she knew what was happening, the leader ceased her guitar and pulled, making the leather strap around her tear apart with a sickening snap.  After taking one last look at the wooden nuisance, the ‘Con let out a roar, pulled back his fist, and thrust the annoyance downward with all his might.  The teen let out a gasp, and despite the blackness before her, the world, never the less, went into slow motion.

The shocking sound of wood striking metal met her ears as the cherry red guitar was smashed to bits.  The pearlish-silver strings rubbed against each other, letting out one final cry of sheer agony as “Old Reliable’s” life ended in tragedy.

Kayla could do nothing but stay rooted to the spot; pale, blue eyes wide and mouth agape in horror.  Slowly, but surely, she then dropped to her knees, and began to crawl through the black void that was her world.  Scrapping her hands across the cold floor, she finally came to rest at the spot where the “murder” had occurred; scooping up the pieces and letting them fall through her fingers.  In a scene much like Bruce Wayne morning the loss of his parents, she buried her face in her hands, and did what she hardly ever did before.

She cried.

The first friend in her life; the thing that crafted her skills and talents; the item that brought her joy and made her stronger; ready to face anything life threw at her, was gone.  The loss of her most prized possession had caused her to finally have a breakdown, and Megatron was enjoying every moment of it.  The mech was content to just stand there and chuckle at the pathetic sight before him.  He had made a mistake; she was entertaining.

With tears streaming down her face, the girl gritted her teeth in anger, on the verge of snapping into a full blown rage at the sound of him laughing.  That sick, twisted, monster was going to pay dearly for this.  A clicking sound told her that he was making a reach for her, but his enormous hand hovered over her hunched body when she growled, “If you lay…one finger on me-”

“-you’ll do what?” Megatron finished with a devilish grin.  He then proceeded to coil his fingers around her thin frame, and hoisted her to his optic level, “Come, my dear; it’s time for the meeting at the rondevu point.  For your sake, let’s hope your friends bring the device with them.”

Kayla remained silent; she had nothing to say to him; not at the moment at least.  The tears had stopped, but the pain was still clearly there.  Satisfied with dishing out the torture she deserved, the tyrant exited the brig with his bargaining chip in hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: And THAT'S why you don't mess with Megatron....


	12. Chapter 12

_When the door shuts, don’t worry about me I_

_t’s not attention that I want from you_

_I need you to trust, who I’m gonna’ be_

_And in everything I’m gonna’ do_

_‘_ _Cause I’m not afraid, of what I don’t know_

At that point, the strumming on the recording stopped, as did Jazz’s singing.  Spike looked up at him and gave him a surprised glance, “I didn’t know you knew Right Before Your Eyes.”

“Heard it on da’ radio ‘fore”, the Porsche replied, “Ya’ know it too?”

“Sure, it’s from the movie, Daredevil”, the boy said.

The mech cocked his head to one side, “Huh?”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Spike gave a chuckle, “If you saw it, you’d see the irony in her playing the song; I’ll show it to ya’ sometime.”

Off in another corner of the room, Sunstreaker let out an exasperated groan, “Save the critics corner for later; what do the song lyrics mean this time around?”

Sparkplug scratched his head as he peered at the computer monitor, “I don’t know, but according to Teletraan-One, there’s only a few seconds left on the recording.  Why don’t we just play the rest first, and then try to put it all together?”

Prowl nodded in approval, “A fine display of logic.”  The others seemed to agree with this as well, so the saboteur proceeded to play the rest of the message.  However, the next song snip it went by so fast that the mech actually had to go back and play it again.  It took a few tries, but eventually, he was able to remember the lyrics. _I hear you knockin’, but ya’ can’t come in_ “That’s it?” Sideswipe quipped.

But Jazz was quick to shush him up, “Hold it; ‘der’s only a couple seconds left; dis’ has ta’ be da’ last song.”  With that, he pushed the “play” button, sending the familiar timbre of the teen’s guitar across the room to the awaiting Autobots.  Fortunately, the next tune was very familiar, even to the ‘Bots who weren’t as musically-inclined as the Porsche.  Never the less, Spike attempted to sing the words as best he could.

_Sometimes I feel I’ve got to-run away_

_I’ve got to-get away_

_From the pain you drive into the heart of me_

The strumming stopped again, but this time, for good.  For a full minute, an uneasy silence wafted about the room, with the mechs exchanging glances at each other.  Finally, Bumblebee spoke up, “So…that’s it?”

Jazz continued to stare at the screen, but gave his comrade a solemn nod to signal that he heard him, “ ‘Dat’s it; ‘dat’s da’ end of da’ message.”  He slowly turned to face the group, “Which means, now we gotta' decipher her message dat’ she’s tryin’ ta’ send us.”

It was in Prowl’s nature to review the situation, and he counted off the songs on his fingers as he spoke, “Well, we’ve got Purple People Eater, I Got Nerve, Right Before Your Eyes, I Hear You Knocking, and Tainted Love.  We’ve already established that the first song is describing her kidnapping, and the second one is talking about her fearlessness.”  He rubbed his chin in thought, “What could the third piece mean?”

“I think that one has alotta’ stuff goin’ on”, Wheeljack explained, “No worries, no attention, trust, and no fear of the unknown.  I think it’s another deal where she doesn’t want us worrying about her, but the trust and unknown thing’s what got me baffled.”

“Well, the last two are easy”, Sideswipe interjected, “Both a’ those songs are about staying away and driving pain.” While the group chatted on, Jazz had his arms crossed and stared at the floor, deep in thought.  What could all these lyrics mean, put together?  They had to figure it out, and fast; it was almost time for them to leave for the rondevu point, and he wasn’t going to let Kayla down; not now, not ever.  However, after remembering what his friends stated, everything seemed to fall into place, and his optics snapped open in realization.

“I have it!” the saboteur exclaimed, and everyone instantly turned their attention to him, “It all makes sense now!  Da’ kidnappin’, no attention, trust, da’ unknown, stayin’ away; she’s tryin’ ta’ tell us dat’ we’re walkin’ right into a trap!”

The mechs remained quiet, trying to register what their friend just said.  Bumblebee had to repeat it himself, “A trap?”

Prowl, on the other hand, lifted a non-existent brow, “If you think about it, it does make sense; unknown, trust, driving pain.  And since it’s the Decepticons we’re talking about, it’s not the least bit surprising that they’d attempt treachery.”

“Agreed”, Optimus Prime nodded, “But thanks to Kayla’s inventive warning, we now know for a fact that those ‘Cons are planning to trick us.”

“How can they?” Sunstreaker asked, “If they don’t give her to us, we don’t give them the magnet-thingy.”

“Megatron must have something up his sleeve”, the 18 wheeler deduced as he paced around, “Which means, we’ll just have to spring a trap of our own.”

“Like what, Optimus?” Spike inquired.

The leader rubbed his chin; thinking.  A moment later, he turned to the resident scientist, “Wheeljack; how did you invent that Magna Ray in the first place?”

The mech with the head fins cast his leader an apprehensive glance, “Um…that might take awhile to explain…”

Prime folded his arms, “Well, you had to go through several tests first, right?”

Wheeljack gave a nod, “Yeah.  In fact, there were alotta’ different models I tried before I hit the one that worked.”

“Do you still have the earlier models?” the leader asked quickly.  

Again, the scientist nodded a yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hmm....looks like the 'Bots got a plan.


	13. Chapter 13

The intense rays of the sun beat down on the reddish-orange, rocky hills of the desert.  But luckily for the creatures having to live in the sparse conditions, the normal, blue sky decided to turn grey and overcast.  How appropriate a setting for a certain, Decepticon leader, who’s silver and black, metallic body clearly stuck out against the sandy backdrop.

The hour-long time frame he set was up, and now, he and his team were waiting, albeit impatiently, for the enemy to arrive…or should we say, his holographic team.  The illusions were standing a few meters behind him, blocking the opening of a small canyon beyond.  The real McCoy’s were stationed behind various cliffs and boulders the landscape had to offer, forming a rough circle the Autobots could easily get caught in the middle of.  Never the less, they were ready to rumble as well.

Megatron put a hand up to shield his optics from the sun as he scanned the area for any signs of his antagonists; a restless human girl clutched tightly in his other hand.  After the “murder” of her prized possession, Kayla was in no mood to play anymore of his games.  However, the leader seemed to pay no heed to her ranting and cursing, so she didn’t have any choice in the matter.  Eventually, the red-head settled down, not wanting to be crushed any further in the behemoth’s grip.  She hoped that her bickering and mind games did the trick, and prayed the Autobots got her message and did the smart thing by staying away.

Unfortunately, her prayer went unanswered when she heard the distant roar of an engine; many engines actually.  The dictator squinted his optics to see a whole fleet of vehicles enter the horizon, kicking up dust as they went, with an 18 wheeler truck leading the parade.  The ‘Con spread his mouth into a wicked smile, “So, the cavalry arrives; excellent…”

From her squished seat in the robot’s fist, the teen barked, “Well, it won’t be excellent when they wipe that grin off your face!”

The tyrant glared at her, wondering how she deduced his facial features, but wasn’t about to admit it.  Frowning, he hissed, “I wasn’t grinning…”  He then hailed his comrades, “Megatron to all hands; the Autobots have arrived; prepare to move on my signal.”

“As you command, Megatron”, Soundwave answered from his hiding spot.

“Roger”, said Thundercracker from another location.

“You got it”, Skywarp added in; hunched behind a boulder.

From his place atop a cliff, Starscream heaved a sigh before finally muttering, somewhat reluctantly, “Understood…”

At that point, the Autobots arrived, and wasted no time in transforming.  Standing before the dictator was Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Wheeljack, Prowl, and Bumblebee, who had let Spike and Sparkplug out of his cab before shifting to his robot form.  At the head of the group was Optimus Prime, with Jazz right next to him.  Upon seeing Kayla in the uncomfortable grip of the evil leader, the saboteur let out a growl, until Prime put his arm out and whispered, “Easy, Jazz…”

The tyrant chuckled at the group, “Well, here we are again; another meeting of the metals.”

The Autobot leader narrowed his blue optics in disgust, “Kidnapping innocent people…”

“How low the mighty have fallen”, Bumblebee finished; an angry lilt to his voice.

“I don’t need a lecture on the proper way of doing things”, Megatron snapped, “Did you bring the device?”  To answer him, Optimus reached into the compartment on his leg, and unsubspaced the aforementioned weapon; waving it in clear view.  To that, the dictator drawled, “Ah, it would appear that your listening skills are up to par. Very well; a deal is a deal.  But just to ensure that we avoid a double-cross, I’ll slide the fleshling over to you only if you’ll slide the device over to me at the same time.”

“Fine”, Prime said; rather tensely, “But if that girl is harmed in any way…”

Megatron replied with nothing more but a sly grin.  The leaders of the two factions then readied their arms for the exchange; blue optics burning into red optics.  Kayla, meanwhile, tensed up in the dictator’s hand; preparing for the rough ride she felt was coming.  After what seemed like an eternity, the two mechs finally moved.  Swooping his arm as if he were bowling, Optimus slid the Magna Ray across the ground, over to his evil counterpart.  At the moment the weapon hit the ground, Megatron mimicked his enemy’s gesture, and slid the teen over to his heroic counterpart.  The dirt and rocks scraped her body, but the girl didn’t let out one cry of pain as she landed into Jazz’s awaiting hands. The Porsche immediately scooped her up and breathed a sigh of relief, thanking Primus a thousand times over that his friend was seemingly unharmed.  Kayla grabbed the first finger she could get a hold of and hugged it; overjoyed to feel the warm, inviting grip of her best friend again; she recognized the palm of his hand anywhere.  The mech gently rocked her back and forth, cradling her in his hands as he turned his back on the dictator to converse with her.  “Kayla; it’s me”, he breathed.

“I know”, she whispered back, “I never thought I’d hear ya’ again.”

“ ‘Dat monster hurt ya’?” he demanded.

The teen shook her head, but added in, rather sadly, “…not physically at least…”  Her pale, blue eyes then widened in realization, “My message; did you-?”

But Jazz quickly shushed her, “Yeah, we got it.  If ya’ stiff n’ unmovin’, it usually means you’re a hologram.  But dem’ ‘Cons ain’t da’ only ones who can spring a trap…”  He then set her down by Spike and Sparkplug, who took her by the hand to lead her over to Bumblebee.  Before joining his leader at the front line, he muttered to his comrades, “Be sure ta’ get her ta’ safety when ya’ can.”  The yellow Beetle and the humans gave a nod.

However, everyone’s safety was instantly put into question when the Magna Ray fell into Megatron’s evil grip.  Grinning wickedly, he held up the device in triumph, and let loose an insane laugh.  The tyrant wasted no time in swinging his arm down, and upon doing so, his cronies standing behind him disappeared.  No sooner did the illusions vanish, the real Decepticons each revealed themselves one by one, forming a circle around the heroes.  The leader was quick to quip, “You fools!  Prepare to be eradicated!”

The Autobots drew their weapons and stood back to back, each picking a different target.  Sideswipe was the first to speak, “We’re surrounded!”

Pressed against his back was his brother, Sunstreaker, who retorted with a snicker, “Thank you, Captain Obvious…”

“Hold your ground, Autobots”, Optimus Prime commanded, “We won’t let the Decepticons win this battle.”

But the 18 wheeler’s comment only made Megatron laugh harder, “Hah!  Heroic words, Optimus.”  He then leveled the Magna Ray at his enemies, adding in, “A pity they shall be your last…”

Much like when Jazz had used the weapon, the tip of the barrel began lighting up, and the dish around it glowed a bright blue; a soft hum coming forth from it.  The dictator took careful aim at Prime’s head; the perfect place to start his rampage.  With that, the villain fired.

But suddenly, in the split seconds that followed, the tyrant realized too late that the exchange was going way too easy.  He deduced this when a loud screech came forth from the device, but instead of sending his enemies into a delirium, it blew up in his face!  The small explosion was enough to jolt him backwards, making his huge body spiral to the ground.

What happened next is a bit difficult to describe, but to put it in general, at that point, all heck broke loose.  The unexpected explosion on the ‘Cons part gave the ‘Bots a window of opportunity to sprint away to the only open spot, which was the canyon in front of them.  The distraction only lasted a few seconds, and soon, the enemy was firing on them with everything they had.  Reaching the natural hallway of sorts, the ‘Bots then took off in different directions.

Wheeljack dashed ahead of everyone else and took position behind two large boulders.  He then reached into his leg compartment and unsubspaced the real Magna Ray.  Thank Primus for giving him the sense to keep all his past mistakes.  They would’ve been in deep slag if Megatron wasn’t using an early prototype they slipped him.  As the scientist readied himself, he managed a chuckle; he knew it would go boom, but who knew it would blow the Pit demon back with so much force?!

Although the rest of his comrades charged into the fray, Soundwave remained at his hiding spot, contemplating the team’s plan, or at that point, what plan?  The “surround and obliterate” maneuver hadn’t panned out too well, and now it was basically every mech for himself.  Counting the ‘Bots that ran past, the ‘Cons were outnumbered…but not for long.  Without another thought, the tape deck opened his chest, and out popped his four cassettes.  As they all lined up in front of him, he quickly gave the order, “Laserbeak, Ravage, Rumble, Frenzy; Operation: Seek and Destroy.”  His four cronies then took off, with their master close behind.

Amidst all the turbulence dust, noise, and kayos, a yellow, Volkswagen Beetle sideswiped and swerved the hundreds of colorful laser beams rocketing around his small frame.  Inside, it was a rough and bumpy ride for the three human occupants Bumblebee promised Jazz he’d protect.  He was going to drive them a safe distance away, but since the ‘Cons were behind him, he had nowhere to go but forward with the rest of his teammates.  Now, they were all basically boxed in.  Spike held on to the steering wheel for dear life; his knuckles turning white as he did so.  In the passenger seat, the Tilt-A-Whirl ride forced upon them was doing wonders for Sparkplug’s stomach; his face practically squished against the window.  Kayla was buckled up in the middle of the backseat, holding on to the seatbelts on either side of her for support as they were thrashed about.  For once in her life, she wished she could see what was going on, but then decided against it, realizing her blindness gave her another advantage; the inability to get motion sickness, at least not as quickly as her new human friends up front.

Just then, an explosion occurred right in Bumblebee’s path, creating a crater that made the Earth under his wheels buckle.  He hated to do it, but with little choice, he screeched to a halt and swung open all the doors, “Sorry about this, guys, but you have to get out; I need my hands for this!”

Considering all the thrashing they just had to endure, the three passengers wasted no time in bailing.  Once they were all out, Bumblebee transformed; unsubspaced his laser gun, and began to return fire.  He used his body to shield his wards as best he could, and Spike and Sparkplug helped by getting back to back with him, shouting warnings of incoming laser fire.  In the middle of the three, Kayla stood, semi-hunched over, cursing that she couldn’t help her friends out at the moment.

Unfortunately, the yellow Beetle was so distracted firing at Frenzy, who decided to pop out of nowhere, that he didn’t notice Ravage barreling toward him.  Before he knew it, the black, robotic panther pounced onto his chest and clawed at his face.  Grabbing the blind red-head by the back of her shirt, the human father and son dove out of the way, and the cassette pinned the ‘Bot to the ground.

Although they wanted to help Bumblebee, the boy and his dad knew their first priority was getting the kidnapped teen to safety.  Pulling her by the arm, they hightailed it to the side of the mountain, and ran as fast as they could.  But suddenly, a loud screech was heard from behind, or at least, Kayla heard it, and she made it known by replying, “Whatever that squawk was, it didn’t sound friendly!”

It was then that Spike looked behind him to see a familiar cassette following them from the air, “That’s Laserbeak!  We gotta’ get outta’ here!”

The mechanical bird decided that was his cue to begin firing.  He took a few half-hearted shots at his prey, then swooped up to shoot the rocks above the humans.  The result was a meteor shower of boulders, dirt, rocks, and other various debris that rained down on the three heroes.  Sparkplug looked up; saw death fast approaching, and tackled Spike, who was about to be hit by a flying rock.  The two hit the dirt in a barrel roll, and tumbled into a nearby ditch.  All the while, the boy screamed for the girl to jump anywhere but forward.

Luckily, a white blur went careening past them, and just before Kayla was buried underneath the desert landscape, the object hit her in the legs, causing her feet to fly out from under her.  Her bottom landed on something cold and metal, and she was spirited away from the danger.  Curious as to who this mysterious savior was, she felt the boxy frame she was riding on.  It certainly wasn’t a car, more like a small go cart, and it didn’t seem to talk either.  Well, whatever this thing was that scooped her up, it must have been on of the good guys if it saved her.  She gave a smile and patted the metal in front of her, “Don’t know who ya’ are, but thanks, little guy.”

To that, the go cart thing gave, what sounded like, a happy series of beeps.  When the ride was over, she stepped off, and the object gave her a few gentle nudges to direct her where to go.  It seemed she was behind a boulder of some kind, and figured the next couple of beeps meant to stay put.  She hoped that’s what it meant and nodded in agreement.  With that, the go cart sped away.

Spike and Sparkplug were busy getting to their feet and dusting off the dirt they received on their merry way into the ditch, when a familiar little Autobot drove up to the edge of their hiding spot.  The boy gave a smile and waved, “Nice work there Roller!  Don’t worry about us; go n’ help the others!”  The silver-white buggy beeped in understanding, then burned rubber to find his leader.

Meanwhile, Ravage still had Bumblebee pinned to the ground.  The cat’s razor sharp claws dug into the yellow metal as he applied more pressure, causing the ‘Bot to wince in pain.  The Beetle turned his head to the side, and spotted his rifle lying nearby.  Forcing every ounce of strength into his arm, he slowly inched his hand out toward his weapon.  But the panther was quick to notice this, and slammed a paw down on his victim’s shoulder joint, ending the painful crawl.  He then raised his other paw, ready to take a few more slashes at the mech’s face, when a huge laser beam rocketed into his side.  The bright beam hurled Ravage off his prey, and sent him smashing into a wall, letting out a roar as he did.

Bumblebee uttered a groan as he propped himself up on his elbows, and he stared up at the overcast sky to see Prowl standing over him; laser rifle in hand.  The smoke sizzling from the gun told the Beetle the police car was his rescuer.  As quickly, but gently as he could, the tactician pulled his comrade to his feet.  The yellow ‘Bot retrieved his weapon, before starting, “Thank-“

“Don’t mention it”, Prowl interjected, “Where are the humans?”

Bumblebee’s blue optics darted about in worry, “I don’t know.  We gotta’ find em’!”

The police car put up a hand to halt him, “There’s no time.”

The Beetle’s optics widened, “But-“

“Look around you”, the tactician explained, “We’ll never find them in all of this.”  He motioned to the surrounding battle for emphasis, “We need to even the score first, and then we’ll have a better chance of finding them.”  The yellow mech gave a dejected stare at the ground, and Prowl continued, “I know you’re worried, as am I.  But Spike and Sparkplug were put in charge of Kayla too, and they’ve been in tougher situations than this.  I’m sure they found a good hiding spot, and I pray they have.  But right now, we need your help.”

Bumblebee sighed, realizing his friend was right.  Since he failed protecting his charges, he’d help as much as he could with the current task.  The ‘Bot gave a determined nod, and the police car continued, “Wheeljack is stationed a few meters west of here; we need to try and lure the ‘Cons over to his part of the rocks, so he can shoot them with the Magna Ray.”

“Got it”, the Beetle said, “You hit em’ high, and I’ll hit em’ low!”  With that, the two Autobots charged back into battle.

Since the side of his body started to numb from laying down, Thundercracker shifted his weight to another position, then peeked out from his cover spot and unloaded more of his fire power.  Ever since Megatron got the exploding facial of doom, things had spiraled out of control, and he was reduced to dealing with this the same way he dealt with bar room brawls back on Cybertron; to hit anybody who got too close.  And this deadly game of laser tag was too close for comfort!  With his energy running low, the Decepticon was just about to hide and let his teammates do all the work, when suddenly, from his vantage point, he spotted Prowl in the gorge down below.  No one else was around him, and with his black and white paint job, one might as well have painted a target on the Autobot.  The blue jet giggled in delight as he took aim.

Prowl was busy giving Bumblebee some cover shots, when a round of laser fire started dancing around his feet.  The tactician swiveled his head up to find the source of the attack, and zeroed in on Thundercracker, who was nestled in a crevice in the mountainside.  There’d be no way for him to shoot back at his assailant from his particular angle, so when the ‘Con took aim again, Prowl transformed and pelted away.  The police car gracefully dodged and swiveled, much like Bumblebee had done previously, only for him, the dodge ball game was much easier since he only had one enemy trying to fry his circuits.

Thundercracker mumbled a few curses as he continued to try and barbecue Prowl, without much success; targets were so fraggin’ harder to shoot when they moved!  However, salvation came in the form of Rumble, who was sticking out slightly from a boulder that the Autobot was closing in on.  He whistled to his comrade, and when the cassette finally noticed him, he motioned his gun barrel at Prowl.  The tiny ‘Con then noticed the ‘Bot coming toward him, and realized what the blue jet wanted him to do.  Turning his arms into pile drivers, Rumble pounded the ground as hard as he could, creating a large crack in the Earth.

Although he didn’t notice Rumble, Prowl did see the gigantic hole speeding toward him.  The tactician immediately hit the brakes, but it was too late.  Even with him trying to stop, he was still driving much too fast.  When his front tire fell into the wide crack, the police car flipped and rolled over a few times, before finally skidding to a stop, upside down.  Thundercracker laughed like a hysterical madman as he took careful aim at his enemy’s exposed underside; time to go bye-bye!

But then, just as he was about to fire and wipe Prowl off the map, something big and metal slammed into his side, causing him to tumble about.  The sky started spinning, and soon, rocks were flying past his line of vision.  Seconds before the jet hit the ground, he realized that the huge something that punched him was an Autobot, and said ‘Bot had made him fall off the cliff he was on.  The landing wasn’t too pretty, and the ‘Con groaned in agony as he attempted to get up.  When he finally accomplished that painful task, he looked up, only to be staring down the business-end of a familiar-looking satellite dish, and a red, white and green Lancia was holding it.  As the dish began lighting up, Wheeljack gave a laugh, “Pack your bags; you’re going on a trip!”

Knowing what was coming, Thundercracker scrambled to get to his feet, “Not again!”  Unfortunately for him, before he could get away, the Autobot scientist fired at his prey, sending the ‘Con through lava lamp world again.  The jet dropped to his knees and closed his optics, trying to shut out the warped land about him.

Meanwhile, from atop the cliff, Jazz had a hearty laugh at Thundercracker’s expense as he rubbed his arm.  He was helping Optimus as best he could, when he noticed Prowl’s predicament.  It wasn’t too hard getting up the mountainside, and even easier to use his shoulder blade as a makeshift battering ram to send the ‘Con tumbling off the cliff.  Speaking of Prowl, the Lambo twins were currently helping him to his feet, and the saboteur realized why the jet chose this spot to go sharpshooting; he had a killer view from up here!  Maybe this way, he could spot Kayla easier; he remembered hearing Prowl saying something to Bumblebee about humans and good hiding spots and he prayed to Primus that she found one.  It was later he learned that Optimus had dispatched Roller to help out ‘Bee, and of the rescue he performed.  He’d have to thank the little go cart later.

The saboteur then laid down with his pistol at the ready and began to pick and choose his newly-exposed targets.  What he didn’t realize was that he himself had become a target, and the targeter was right behind him.  It wasn’t until he heard a yell, and the sound of metal striking metal that he whipped around and stared at the commotion occurring behind his back.  Soundwave’s cassette, Frenzy, was on the ground; fingers digging into the dirt as he tried to pry himself from Bumblebee, who had the mech’s legs locked in a death grip.  The whole scene told the Porsche everything; apparently, the cassette managed to sneak up on him, but the yellow Beetle tackled him before any harm could be done.  The next sight was too shocking for Jazz to react; after a short wrestling match, ‘Bee and Frenzy took it right off the cliff with them, and the saboteur could only stare as his friend and would-be attacker spun about in the air before hitting the ground.  It wasn’t too far a drop, but never the less, he prayed that the ‘Bot was okay.  Fortunately, it appeared he was, since he slowly, but surely rose from his landing spot; Frenzy never got up.

“Perfect; just fraggin’ perfect!” Skywarp spat sarcastically.  The Decepticon had every reason to yell; hundreds of laser blasts ricocheted off the one boulder he was using for cover.  With every missed shot, a chunk of the large rock went with it, decreasing the size of his shield every second.  When the jet finally dared to poke his head out and seek a peek at the frat house from heck, all he could make out was an alarming, growing number of Autobots on the field; his fellow ‘Cons were nowhere in sight.  A twinge of panic ran through him as he realized he was like a cowboy surrounded by Indians…that is, until he stole a glance at what was occurring beside him.

Optimus Prime; the big kahuna himself, was shooting upwards at a black shape circling the sky, more than likely, it was Laserbeak…and the Superman-colored mech had his back turned.  As carefully and stealthily as he could, Skywarp crept out from his rocky cover and took aim at Prime’s backside.  A perfect end to the Autobot leader, and he’d be the one to thank for it!

Suddenly, an enormous weight was dropped on top of the jet Decepticon, causing him to miss his mark, get squashed into the gravel, and making him scream for the nearest cyropractor.  The Lamborghini twins had the silver, black, and purple mech in a roughly forced dog pile, and after some chuckles amongst each other, they each grabbed an arm and pulled the ‘Con to his feet. “Saving your leader from getting his aft fried; 25 dollars”, Sideswipe quipped as they hoisted their victim up.

Sunstreaker continued, “You and your bro throwin’ a ‘Con off a cliff; 50 dollars”.  Staying true to his word, the sun-colored mech and his mischievous brother swung with all their might, and jettisoned the jet forward, where he landed to join Thundercracker in a blissful delirium, courtesy of Wheeljack and the Magna Ray.

Sideswipe put an arm around his twin and grinned, before finishing, “Watchin’ Skywarp get his cranium scrambled; priceless.”

Despite his electronic, mono-tone voice, Soundwave let out an audible groan.  His comrades didn’t get the device, Megatron and Starscream were nowhere to be found, and two of his cassettes had been knocked offline; things just weren’t playing in their favor.  That said, the dark blue tape deck had gathered Ravage and Frenzy, then sent out a signal to the remaining two cassettes.  In no time at all, Rumble came sprinting and did a jack knife into his master’s open chest.  However, the ‘Con had a different plan in mind for Laserbeak, who came swooping in not long after Rumble.  The mechanical bird hovered in the air, awaiting the mech’s command.

“Laserbeak; Operation: Seek Megatron”, the tape deck ordered.  The falcon let out a squawk and obediently carried out the task.  After watching him go, the ‘Con took one last look at the battle before sneaking away with the stealth of a ninja; time to exit stage left.

With that, Soundwave turned around…and ran smack into a huge, red chest.  The tape deck stumbled back a few steps due to the sudden impact and stared up at the obstruction.  Standing before him was Optimus Prime; where did he come from?  He was firing up at Laserbeak just moments before; how’d he get behind him that quickly?  The force not to be reckoned with had his hands on his hips in an almost bored fashion, and with an amused lilt to his voice, asked, “Going somewhere?”

To answer him, the ‘Con quickly drew his weapons, ready to fire.  “Touché’,” thought Prime, but he had an ace up his sleeve.  Without a second thought, the mech produced his energon axe; a weapon as orange-yellow as the sun and glowing with a great intensity.  Soundwave gave a nervous glance at the insanely-large laser knife that could easily julienne him into energon soup and powered down his cannons.  Optimus smirked under his faceplate, knowing that a quick size up of the competition would tell the ‘Con otherwise.  With axe still in hand, he motioned his enemy to turn around; the ‘Con silently complied.  Then, with a slight shove of the weapon into the tape deck’s back, he uttered one word; loud, clear, and direct, “March.”

Wheeljack was now sitting in his cover spot, albeit more relaxed, and continued releasing the Magna Ray’s waves of power at the babbling Decepticons before him.  His fellow mechs had gathered around at that point to watch the show and were doubled over in laughter.  Soon enough, Soundwave came walking over, the Autobot leader “helping” him with the use of his axe, and the tape deck was pushed into the romper room of confusion.  Another roll of chuckles went around as Bumblebee came up to Optimus; a hint of remorse in his step, “Prime, I was being attacked and-“

But the Autobot leader held up a hand, “I know Bumblebee; Roller relayed to me what happened, and I understand.  He gave me Spike, Sparkplug, and Kayla’s coordinates; we can go pick them up.”  To that, the yellow Beetle heaved a sigh of relief.

But that relief was instantly replaced with panic when a massive amount of cluster bombs suddenly rained down upon the Autobots.  Some managed to dive out of the way, but the first wave created a thick, smoke cloud, so when the second wave of bombs passed, the rest of the ‘Bots covered their heads and hit the deck.  When the surprise assault seemed to subside, Optimus swiped his hand through the foggy abyss to see who or what attacked them.  Peering into the haze of dust, he could just barely make out a familiar-looking, red and blue jet flying away; Starscream.  The ‘Bots were on their feet, armed and ready as the smoke cleared up, and all optics darted skyward, looking for any sign of the attacker.

Just then, a painfully-familiar cackle ripped through the deadly silence, “To quote thy enemy; ‘How low the mighty have fallen’.”  All heads turned towards the hoarse voice, and optics widened at the sight before them.  Standing atop the cliffs was Megatron; his silver-black armor glistening from the intense rays of the sun.  The explosive, surprise present the ‘Bots slipped him left ugly, black scorch marks on his face; a face contorted into a grimace as he starred down at the heroes, “You have something I want!”

The Autobots wasted no time in firing everything they had at the Decepticon leader, who was more than happy to return said shots to sender.  A few seconds later, Starscream flew overhead and shifted forms next to his leader, adding to the laser show as he did.  Without turning his head, the jet addressed the silver and black mech, “I don’t understand; why didn’t we do this in the first place?”

The dictator let loose a growl of annoyment, “Do not question my methods, Starscream!  Now do as I instructed!”  With that, the tyrant leaped into the air, and transformed into his gun form.  The red and blue mech then broke off his continuous barrage and grabbed the massive bazooka that was previously his leader.  Despite all the colorful lasers buzzing past him, the jet took careful aim at the mechs in the gorge, and fired a rather large beam of energy.

Most of the Autobots had no trouble in dodging the laser, but too late did they realize that the wanna-be Decepticon leader was aiming for one target in particular.  That target was the red, white, and green Lancia positioned amongst the rocks.  The scientist had his invention trained on the ‘Cons in front of him during the whole duration of the shoot out, knowing his comrades would have an easier time with fewer enemies to deal with.  But now, with the attack so sudden, and no way to reach for his own laser gun in time, the wrath of Megatron’s energy beam caused Wheeljack to be blown back into the mountainside behind him.  The force of him slamming into the wall also caused the Magna Ray to go flying out of his grip, and spinning into the air.

The Lambo twins darted to help their scientist friend, but no amount of assistance could alleviate the fear in everyone’s sparks at the sight of what happened next.  Before anyone could react, Soundwave’s cassette, Laserbeak, came swooping in out of nowhere and caught the free-falling Magna Ray in his metallic talons.  The mechanical heroes attempted to shoot down the bird, but it was too little, too late.  To their horror, the falcon made a pass over the cliffs, and proceeded to drop the weapon…

…right into the cold, evil grip of Megatron.

The dictator held up the device and yelled to the sky, “At last!  The weapon is mine!”

“Autobots; fire at will!” came the command of Optimus Prime.

The heroic mechs proceeded to do just that, as Megatron and Starscream jumped the cliff and began to skid down the side of the mountain.  While the red and blue jet gave him some cover shots, the Decepticon leader took aim at his counterpart’s cranium and fired.  The magnetized waves hit Optimus like a ton of bricks, and he was forced to cease fire to hold his head in pain.  This, of course, made the rest of the Autobots scatter.

Megatron let loose a cackle; continuing to pour on the idiot beams at the now dazed commander.  But suddenly, something large and heavy pounced on his back, and a pair of white arms draped him like a necktie, attempting to grab the ray gun.  From behind, came a familiar, Brooklyn accent, “Gimmie’ back my invention, ya’ slaggin’ thief!”

A few laser shots from a newly-risen Soundwave took care of the abomination on his back.  The tyrant turned to face Wheeljack lying on the ground.  Without another thought, the evil leader unleashed the Magna Ray’s fury on the poor scientist, sending his thoughts into a madcap scramble.

The dictator then spotted a yellow, Volkswagen Beetle racing toward him at top speeds.  He wasted no time in shooting the target, making nearby Starscream hurl himself out of the line of fire, crying, “Watch it!  You’re going to hit me!”

Megatron could care less about the jet, and cursed, “Then get out of my way!”  Continuing to expel the Magna Ray’s energy, the Beetle slowly began to swerve, then broke into a continuous roll of 360 spins.  When Bumblebee finally reached the dictator’s feet, he was blasting a garbled mix of sounds from his radio and had his 4-way flashers on.

Taking advantage of the distraction, the Lambo twins rushed the Decepticon leader, with Sideswipe calling to Sunstreaker, “Come on, let’s get him before we see a live performance of ‘Herbie Goes Bananas’!”

But alas, sweet revenge was taken for Skywarp in particular, as he and Thundercracker dropped on top of the twins; drilling them into the ground.  When the weight was released off of them, they both stared up into Megatron’s face, and the stolen ray in hand.  Before they could act, a screech was heard, and the world turned many colors and flipped upside down.

Just then, a round of laser fire rocketed past the dictator’s head and shoulders, making him turn.  The blasts were coming from Prowl, who was positioned a good distance away.  But the situation only made the tyrant laugh harder.  The rest of the Autobot’s comrades were out of commission; the black and white mech was outnumbered 10 to 1.  A good dosage of magnetism would take care of the small percentage still weighted against them.  With a yawn practically coming out of him, the Decepticon leader turned the ray on his target, sending the police car to Blissville.  In only a matter of minutes, the ‘Cons made the battle do a 180 in their favor, and now they were the ones to gather around and laugh at the helpless victims before them.

Unfortunately for them, their laughter wouldn’t last long, because luckily for the Autobots, Megatron hadn’t noticed that he was missing an enemy.  High up in the cliffs, Jazz stayed perched in the spot where he performed a rescue earlier.  From this height and angle, the Porsche could look down in the gorge and see everything; that included the battle that took a turn for the worst.  Staring in horror at the scene before him, the mech reviewed his options.  He considered jumping down to help his comrades earlier, but then decided against it, knowing he’d be no use at all if he got attacked by the Magna Ray too.  With this in mind, that made calling for back up out of the question as well.  As long as Megatron had the device, no Autobot had a fair chance against him.  He was virtually all alone; what could he possibly do?

It was then that the saboteur noticed how still Megatron was standing.  The tyrant had taken a few steps back, and could now hose the place fully with the weapon of magnetism.  In the end, Jazz decided that Prowl had the right idea; since he couldn’t get too close, he’d have to shoot from afar.  And for how still the ‘Con was standing, this was his chance.  Leveling his rifle, the Porsche took careful aim at the Magna Ray in Megatron’s grip.  Wheeljack would hate to have his invention destroyed, but better for no one to have it, then the ‘Cons having it.  With that, the black and white mech fired.

Megatron continued to douse his enemies in the confusion waves, when something glinted out of the corner of his optics.  Turning his head slightly, he immediately caught sight of a thin, blue laser beam bulleting towards him.  However, he also noticed the angle at which the laser was coming, and in the few seconds that passed, he managed to figure out that the light beam wasn’t aimed at him per say, but at the device in his hand.  With only a second to spare, the dictator swung his arm around to swipe the Magna Ray out of the line of fire.

For both factions, the plan worked…almost.  Megatron managed to dodge the beam and save the Magna Ray from the brunt of the blast, however, he wasn’t fast enough to pull off a full rescue.  The laser did indeed hit the magnetic device, but instead of vaporizing it into nothing, it pinged off the satellite dish around the barrel of the gun.  In the next moment that followed, there came the crack of metal tearing apart, and the sight of the satellite dish falling off the barrel and plopping into the desert sand.

The Decepticon leader grimaced in disgust, while Jazz let out a gasp; Megatron had no inkling to the effects that were about to happen.  The Porsche remembered Wheeljack’s words; that dish was concentrating the magnet beam so the shooter wouldn’t be affected.  But now…with no protection…

Suddenly, all the Decepticons cried out in pain, and Megatron dropped what was left of the Magna Ray to clutch his head.  Every last mech fell to their knees to join the Autobots; rolling, babbling, yelling, and screaming to make it stop.  In his last moment of solace, Jazz comprehended what happened; with no dish to help point the ray in one direction, the magnetic waves were now spreading all over.  And then, the saboteur’s sanity was taken, sending him spiraling off the cliff.

A boiling, skewed world; bright colors, screeches, upside down mountains, Astro Boy, cell phone calls, free-form jazz music, commercials, radio broadcasts; all this noise, imagery, and confusion compounded all the transformers present, and the sheer gulf was immeasurable.  Eventually, someone’s warped mind decided to fire his laser cannons, and everyone followed suit.  Now, not only was the gorge filled with started and dazed idiots, but laser beams were shooting off in all directions, hitting everything in its path.

Luckily, fate would show its hand in the Autobots’, and pretty much, the world’s favor.  Wheeljack’s invention used magnets to disrupt frequencies and electronic devices.  That included the metal, electronic, inorganic transformers…but that didn’t mean it affected organic creatures too.  And how fortunate for the Autobots; they made friends with plenty of unaffected, organic humans; three of which were in hiding at that moment!

Spike and Sparkplug were still nestled in the deep ditch they landed in after being attacked by Laserbeak.  Both could have easily climbed out, but after witnessing the carnage happening inches in front of them, they dared not to put so much as even a shoe out in the field.  But now, since the battle went downhill, and everyone was thrown into a tizzy, both father and son agreed that they needed to find a safe way out of there and go for help of any kind.  With that, the two began to scan the field, searching for something; anything that could help them or their friends.

Just then, amidst all the shooting, Spike spotted something sticking out of the rocks.  Squinting harder, he was sure that the something was red orange…with white shoes…and was that…a blue T-shirt?  Realization hit, and the boy identified the object by yelling, “KAYLA!”

A stone’s throw away, the aforementioned teenager remained huddled behind the boulder the mysterious go cart sent her to.  For the only time in her life, she cursed not being able to see what was happening.  But from the sound of things, it wasn’t faring too well.  Everything seemed to be heading on the straight and narrow before; why was everyone babbling and screaming all of a sudden?  She could’ve sworn she heard Jazz among the yells at one point, and it filled her with worry.  She prayed both to God, and whoever was the god of the Cybertronians; probably the same guy; that he and the Autobots were okay.

“KAYLA!” someone yelled.  

Curious, the red-head cocked an ear to one side; someone was calling her name.  It wasn’t Jazz; that she knew.  In fact, it didn’t have that slight, metallic timbre to it, so it must have been a human voice.  She then recalled the two humans she had been riding with earlier; it must have been them!  Poking her head out from the rock she hid behind, she called back, “I’M OVER HERE!”  She added in a wave in the voice’s general direction.

“WE KNOW THAT!” answered Spike, “ARE YOU OKAY?!”

“YEAH!” Kayla yelled.  Another batch of laser beams zipped past the gap between the humans, and the teen added in, “WHAT’S GOIN’ ON?!”

“THE MAGNA RAY’S GONE HAYWIRE!” Sparkplug explained, screaming to get it across, “THE MAGNETISIM’S AFFECTIN’ EVERYONE!  THEY’RE ALL CONFUSED!”

To that, Kayla clutched her rock cover even harder to try and pull herself together.  This couldn’t be happening.  And yet, hearing another painful cry from her best friend, it revealed the harsh reality.  All of the Autobots were in serious trouble, and there was no way to call for help.  Her and the two humans she barely got to meet were on their own, and trapped.  With nothing else to do, she slowly slumped to the ground in anguish…she never felt so helpless before…and she was always determined to never be that.  And now…

…now…there was a strange feeling…coming from…her waist?  At first, the red-head didn’t notice it, but soon enough, she felt an odd pulling motion against her body.  Curious, her hands went to her hips, trying to locate the cause of this weird feeling that suddenly came about her.  A minute or two of investigation, and the girl realized that her belt was mysteriously being pulled on its own accord.  Another thinking process later, and she discovered the reason for this strange phenomena.  She remembered the older-sounding man saying something about magnets.  Being robots, that explained the Autobots’ behavior, but it also explained what was happening to her.  Her black, leather belt had a metal buckle on it.  Since this was a giant magnet they were dealing with, it was no surprise it was attracting any metal alloys.

Wait…attraction?  Immediately, the gears started turning, and the teen was struck with an idea.  Since boom box brain broke her cane…maybe she could use her “magic” belt as a new one.

Just then, Sparkplug’s voice could be heard a short distance away, “WE GOTTA’ GET OUTTA’ HERE!  THERE’S NOTHIN’ MORE WE CAN DO!”

A spark of hope ran through Kayla’s heart, and she rose to her feet in determination, “YES, THERE IS!”  With that, the girl removed her belt, and the metal buckle instantly shot out towards the magnet rays.  The only thing holding it back was the teen’s firm grip on the leather, and slowly…she began to walk out into the battlefield.

Spike let out a gasp at the sight before him, “WHAT IS SHE DOING?!”

Sparkplug contributed to his son’s desperate cries, “KAYLA!  COME BACK!  IT’S TOO DANGEROUS!”

But the red-head wasn’t one to fail without trying first.  Instead, she continued to walk forward, yelling over her shoulder, “DON’T WORRY!  I GOT AN IDEA!  BESIDES, SOMEONE’S GOTTA’ DO SOMETHING!”  Although, in her mind, bolstering her also was the fact that if her plan didn’t work, and she got vaporized, they were all dead anyway.  At least it didn’t hurt to try.

With that in mind, Kayla continued to venture into the noisy, black void; armed only with a magnetized belt to help guide her.  A few more laser blasts whizzed by her, and she was gravely sure they came pretty darn close.  Way too close.  But they didn’t hit.  “I’m still alive”, she thought, “Can’t stop now…”

Just then, Bumblebee yelled and took a few staggering steps to the left; kicking the Magna Ray as he went.  Naturally, with the magnet suddenly moving to a new location, the belt immediately swerved, dragging the teen along with it.  Her heart pounding, both in excitement and fear, Kayla quickened her pace to a slight jog; the less time used trying to get that magmathingamahoosit, the better.

Still rooted to the spot, two pairs of eyes were locked onto the red-head, as Spike and Sparkplug practically bit their nails down to the bone; sweat beating across every portion of their bodies.  In fact, the whole world seemed to melt away, with only her left standing, as she blindly made her way across the field; literally.  Father and son were amazed that the girl had gotten that far, and both were in utter shock at her brazen act of courage.  Whatever this idea was, it was definitely working, as she only had a short distance to close between herself and the device.  “Puh-leeese God; let her be okay…” Spike prayed under his breath; his heart practically thumping out of his chestial section.

Back in the war zone that was the Oregon desert, Kayla had to pause for only a moment as a large breeze whipped across her face.  In reality, it was actually Soundwave blowing past her and slamming into the side of the mountain.  Once the distraction seemed to pass, the teen carried on with her deadly jog across the battlefield; shifting back for nobody.  Well, actually, she got turned around a couple times, since the Magna Ray was being bounced around by everyone’s shuffling feet.  “What the heck are these guys doin’?!” she thought, “Playin’ soccer?!”

Suddenly, Skywarp fired one of his rockets, making the ground erupt in a huge explosion.  The earthquake afterwards made the ground violently tremble, sending Kayla off her feet.  She took a rough landing on her rear end and winced in pain; the thump barely audible amongst the destruction.  Hacking amidst the dust cloud that followed, the teen finally had enough.  She was so close; she could feel it; she couldn’t fail!  Not for the Autobots, not Jazz, not herself.

“Ok, that’s it!” she spat, “No more messin’ around!  You and me against the world, baby!  CHARGE!”

With both a heave, and a large burst of fear/anger-induced adrenaline, the red-head pushed herself to her feet, and broke into a full blown run.  She kept her head down, with one hand over her head, and the other holding on to the belt for dear life; the magnetized metal buckle pulling her towards her goal.  She turned a blind eye (literally) to the shots and explosions occurring just a few feet above her head; almost there…

_Clank!_

Her belt finally attached to something!  As quickly as possible, the teen dropped to her knees and swept her hands over the device; metal, smooth, pointy, came to a stop at a 90° angle; that must have been where the trigger was.  It was also fairly warm, like it was just used, and still in use right now. This was it!  Now, if she could only find the “off” switch…

Another explosion occurred, giving Kayla her second dirt shower.  Annoyed, she tried to ignore it and gave the weapon another hand sweep; how did this darn thing turn off?!  Finally, after the 100+ time of laser fire, ala Star Wars, the girl threw her arms up in frustration.  Fine.  If she couldn’t find the shut down button, she’d take it to the two grease monkeys who could.  Getting to her feet, she scooped the barrel of the ray into her arms and stood up; the tip of the ray resting on her shoulder.

However, after taking a few steps, she quickly realized her next problem; how was she going to get back?  Pale, blue eyes darted about in a panic; that belt sent her all over the place; where to now?  Awww, man!  With the exception of hearing from Jazz again, this day totally sucked!  Throwing her head back, she vented her anger by screaming the only word she could thing of.

“SLAGGIT!”

Back in the ditch, Spike and Sparkplug let out a cheer; she actually made it!  But their happiness was short-lived upon seeing Kayla’s distressed face.  A moment, and then realization hit of her dilemma.  Without another thought, Spike yelled off the top of his lungs, “KAYLA!”

The girl whipped her head at the voice; that boy again!  She quickly called back, “WHERE ARE YOU?!  I CAN’T GET BACK!”

“WE’RE OVER HERE!” Spike answered, “FOLLOW THE SOUND OF MY VOICE!”

Good thing that voice was hard to ignore; that she wouldn’t deny.  With that, they boy gave another cry and Kayla hoisted the ray up; walking forward as she did.  After about ten steps, she halted; waiting for a second check on her bearings.  Another shout, and she was off again, occasionally ducking hails of dirt and grit.  The teen then had to stop to catch her breath; man, this gun was big!  And heavy too!  “There goes my exercise for the next ten years”, she thought.  Now, where was she?

“YOU’RE DOIN’ GREAT, HONEY!”  That was the older man, and he sounded close.  Time for some more weight lifting…heave-ho!  Digging her heels into the gravel, she pulled with all her might; the heavy metal slowly being dragged along.  More steps gave more shouts, and each scream sounded closer by the step.  On the home stretch, baby!

A yell, and then the feeling of someone grabbing the other side of the ray; salvation!  With a heave, the weapon was shoved over a drop off point, and then someone took her by the hand and led her downwards.  With the battle sounds now muffled, she was positive she was in a safe place and slumped to the ground, exhausted.  Panting for all it was worth, she barely registered the boy talking to her, “Kayla!  You did it!  That was amazing!”

There was a pat on the head, and then the timbre of the older man’s voice, “Good work there, soldier.  We’ll take it from here; you just rest.”  Still trying to catch her breath, Kayla gave a nod, and a slight smile; he called her a soldier?  Heh-heh, if only Dad knew…but he was right; war was heck.

Both Spike and Sparkplug heaved a sigh of relief, utterly amazed that the blind girl made it through the battle field and back relatively unscathed.  While Spike kept a close eye on her, Sparkplug set to work on turning off the Magna Ray.  He furrowed his eyebrows in thought, scrutinizing the device with much inquisitiveness, as if inspecting a patient ready for surgery.  To that, his son cast him a quizzical glance, “Um, dad?  The ‘off’ button’s right there.”  He pointed to the switch near the trigger.

“I know”, the mechanic replied, “But this thing’s givin’ us too much trouble.  I’m shuttin’ it down for good, but how?”

The two of them turned when Kayla suddenly added in her two cents, “Hey, it feels like there’s plenty a’ boulders around here.  Why deprogram when you can smash?”  She pounded her fist into her open palm to emphasize the point.

One could almost see the light bulb appear over the mechanic’s head, “I think ya’ got somethin’ there!”  He motioned to the large rock nearby, “Spike, help me with this!”  In no time at all, the father and son duo were pushing their backs against the Earth formation with everything they had.  If they could just roll it on top of the Magna Ray, this whole fiasco would end.  If only they were just a tad stronger…

Kayla could hear all the groaning and grunting nearby and felt stupid just lying there, doing nothing.  Rolling her dead eyes, she rose to her feet and followed the struggling sounds, “Need some more muscle?”  Finding the accursed rock, she gave it a forceful shove, exerting all of what was left of her energy.  With her help, the human trio managed to push the boulder off the rock formation, sending it smashing on top of the trouble-causing device.  A flash, a shower of sparks, one last screech of power, and then silence.

Immediately, a still came over the desert, and the silence was deafening.  Then, slowly, but surely, a wave of soft groans ran up and down the scattered pile of transformers, both good and evil.  However, the world was apparently still in a bit of a spin, since no one made any attempt to get up.  But eventually, someone did rise to their feet…and angrily mumbled to his cohorts.  “The…the device…”

Megatron breathed.  A quick scan with his blood-red optics, and he stated the obvious, “It’s gone.  Decepticons; spread and search!”

But when none of his fellow mechs darted past him to begin the hunt, he turned around and glowered at the sight before him.  Thundercracker and Skywarp were both sitting on their knees, groaning as if about to upchuck right on the spot.  Nearby, Starscream was still laying on the ground, but had propped himself up on one elbow, while the other hand was busy rubbing his head in pain.  The only one actually on his feet was Soundwave, who was standing near the mountainside, staring off into space.  A moment later, he turned to his leader, “Diagnostic scan complete; still functioning; cassettes suffering internal damage; now offline.”

The dictator managed a growl of disgruntlement; well that was just peachy.  He quickly turned to the two F-15 jets trying to gain their footing, “Thundercracker; Skywarp; haul yourselves up and search for that weapon!”

Rubbing his forehead; a severe headache coming on, the blue jet mumbled, “Aww, frag; what a trip…I don’t get paid enough for this job…”

That statement immediately made the silver, purple, and black jet’s optics widen, then turn to annoyment, “Oh, ya’ don’t, eh?  Well, bolt bucket, last time I checked, you were gettin’ the better half of the energon supply.”

The aforementioned mech swiped away the finger being jabbed in his face, “Me?!  You’re the thief!”

At that point, the two ‘Cons were brought back to the earlier argument in the brig (bolstered by a certain fleshling), and yells turned to idle threats.  Starscream was now on his feet and unleashed a long-suffering groan; not this again!  However, instead of berating the two squabblers, the red and blue jet cast Megatron a death stare; that wretched flesh bag was actually right.  He made it known by voicing his own, warped opinion, “Well, well, ‘mighty’ leader.  Once again, your cranium-dead ideas have led us to failure.  You kidnapped a fleshling, and for what?  To be annoyed, insulted, and defeated in the end.  I should have known this device wasn’t worth the trouble!”

Megatron’s optics glowed in fury, “Watch your mouth, Starscream, or I’ll…”

“Or you’ll what?” asked a voice; a defiant lilt to it.

Turning on his heel, the Decepticon leader came face to face with his old nemesis.  Optimus Prime and the rest of the Autobots were all on their feet; armed and prepared to fight.  Some looked a little worse for wear, but on whole, they each held a pose that seemed to challenge anyone who dared cross them.  Blue optics narrowing, Prime continued his little speech, “For once, Starscream’s right; it’s over, Megatron.”

Said tyrant was grimacing in disgust; things just were not playing in his favor at all.  A communications officer with nothing to aid him, two lackeys who couldn’t cooperate, and a wanna-be leader hissing threats every step of the way.  So basically, the dictator was left all alone to fight an army of angry Autobots.  Swearing at the turn of events, the leader turned to his fellow mechs, “Decepticons; retreat.”

With that, the three jets transformed and Soundwave turned into his tape deck form and hopped into Starscream.  The ‘Cons then took off, with Megatron following close behind, not before giving a final threat to his goody-goody counterpart.  However, the dictator took everything in stride; those ‘Bots may have won the battle, but not the war.  There’d be plenty more confrontations to show his mettle.  Those were the only thoughts on his mind as he and the Decepticons became nothing but a speck in the sky.

Back on the ground, the heroic mechs subspaced their weapons, looking to the sky both in happiness and relief.  Optimus Prime turned to address his comrades, “Another battle has been victorious.  Well done everyone.”

Sunstreaker, however, wasn’t one to forget what caused all the trouble.  He folded his arms and replied, “Yeah, well, it woulda’ gone smoother if Megatron didn’t get that Magna Ray thing.”  The others nodded in agreement.

Wheeljack’s head fins lit up, adding in, “Eh, don’t worry.  As soon as we find that thing, I’ll personally see to it that it’s destroyed.”

“Already did that for ya’,” said a voice.  All the mechs looked downwards to see Sparkplug standing at their feet, “It was put to rest under a boulder.  No sense in keeping that trouble-causin’ ray; it’s too dangerous for anyone to have.”

“I second that”, Sideswipe interjected.

A few laughs went around as Optimus stepped forward and crouched on one knee to bring himself closer to the human’s level, “Thank you for saving us.  If you and Spike hadn’t destroyed the weapon when you did, we all might have gone permanently offline for sure.”

The mechanic chuckled, looking up at the leader with a shrug, “Well, I appreciate the sincerity…but Spike and I actually didn’t do too much, except push the rock.”  He jerked his thumb behind his shoulder to point out his hiding spot, “The one you should really be thankin’ is Kayla; she’s the hero.”

The mechanic then launched into the story of how the girl ventured out into the battlefield to retrieve the Magna Ray; detailing the lasers and explosions that nearly wiped away her existence.  Most were stunned speechless at this news, but the silence was soon broken with Prowl’s question of how the teen was able to find the ray with her handicap.  Sparkplug told him that Kayla later explained to him of how she used her magnetized belt to guide her to the ray.  Needless to say, the tactician was impressed of the girl’s ingenuity.  The mechanic then recounted of how she single-handedly dragged the oversized ray gun back to the hiding spot, following both he and his son’s shouts.  It was then that she added the extra force to push the boulder and destroy the ray of doom.  After the human’s telling, the Autobots were pretty much surprised, shocked, amazed, and plenty of other synonyms for said words.  They heard of her heroic act from Jazz, but this one topped everything, and they still didn’t meet her yet!

“Where is Kayla?” Jazz asked; a hint of worry in his voice.

But Sparkplug gave the music connoisseur a reassuring smile, “She’s with Spike.  Follow me.” The mechanic waved his hand to lead the way, and broke into a bit of a jog over to the ditch he and his son practically started calling home.  The ‘Bots needed only take a few steps to catch up to the human, and all seven of them filed one after another to join the parade.  Nearing the hole, they first noticed the destroyed ray gun squished underneath the boulder.  Next, came the sight of Spike kneeling next to the aforementioned hero; apparently, he had dragged her out of the ditch when the Decepticons hightailed it out of there.  At first, the mechs were alarmed; Jazz most notably, to see the red-head lying on the ground, motionless.  But upon closer inspection, Optimus then noticed her peacefully-closed eyelids and steady breathing.  He smiled under his faceplate, and turned to tell Jazz, but the saboteur’s trademark grin told him he already knew.  The black and white mech whispered to everyone standing in anticipation, and the news sent muffled laughs across the group.

Kayla was asleep.

It wasn’t a surprise; getting kidnapped, put in a battlefield, retrieving heavy ray guns, and pushing rocks would do that to a person, especially someone her age, and she was definitely drained because of the whole ordeal.  With great silence and care, the 18 wheeler gently lifted the sleeping form.  He wasn’t even halfway turned before he heard the familiar sound of a mech transforming.  He was met with the sight of a black, white, and blue Porsche waiting with the engine running; the back door wide open; ready to receive his friend he so desperately wanted back.  There were smiles all around as the leader carefully deposited the teen into the car.  The girl stirred slightly as she brushed against the seats, but the motion of the engine kept her from waking, and she soon curled up in the backseat.  The saboteur made certain to close his door as quietly as possible.

After all was said and done, Optimus turned to his comrades once more, uttering his famous catchphrase, “Autobots; transform and roll out!”  

With that, the mechs carried out the order, and a satisfied armada of vehicles left the gorge; a dust trail as their only witness as they headed for home.


	14. Chapter 14

_“Sorry fer’ da’ rough landin’, lil’ lady.”_

_“Beats bein’ a grease spot on the street.”_

_“Never met a blind person, have you?”_

_“Jazz, the Autobot?”_

_“Bet Skyjerk’s gonna’ feel that in the morning.”_

_“Hey…don’t lose your spirit.”_

_“I never forget a voice.”_

_“Finally.  Someone to share the music with.”_

_“You can’t live in fear, ya’ know?”_

_“Grab everything and let’s go!”_

_“I’m tellin’ you jack squat!”_

_“You’re becoming more trouble than it’s worth…”_

_“You must attack their spark first.”_

_“I’VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS INFERNAL CONTRAPTION!”_

_“ ‘Dat monster hurt ya’?”_

_“That’s Laserbeak!”_

_“SOMEONE’S GOTTA’ DO SOMETHING!”_

_“FOLLOW THE SOUND OF MY VOICE!”_

“Oooooh…my head…” Kayla mumbled to herself; her voice barely audible.  Her hand went to her face, and she lazily rubbed a temple, as the memories of the last day or two came flooding back to her in a rush.  Man…what a day…or, whatever daylight was.  The teen could think of nothing else to do but groan; overwhelmed of the past events.  After failing to shake off the grogginess, she slowly turned on her side to bury her head back into the soft pillow.

Wait…pillow…?

Naturally, the girl began to investigate.  A quick hand sweep of the feather-gentle object she previously laid her head on confirmed it; it was a pillow.  She then ran her palm over her body, to feel the soft, cotton sheet draped about her.  She was in a bed…how’d she get in a bed?  The last thing she remembered was lying down in the dirt, exhausted…and she could have sworn she felt a strange rocking at one point.

“Hey, she’s wakin’ up”, said a voice.  There then came the sound of footsteps coming her way, and Kayla sat up.  But what actually perked her interest was the mirad of other sounds; strange sounds, like out of a sci-fi movie; creaking metal, the hum of electricity, odd beeps and clicks…where was she?

“How ya’ feelin’?” asked the same voice.

The girl turned her head in the voice’s general direction, albeit a bit startled.  She was so busy focusing on the sounds of the unknown environment, that she barely noticed that the footsteps stopped.  The voice was close, so the owner of it must have been standing by the bed.  But back to the question; how was she feeling?  Dare she say she felt like she was hit by a truck?  Nah; go with the answer everyone says, “Alright, I guess…”  Now to the matter at hand, “What happened?”

“Ya’ passed out from exhaustion, I think”, answered another voice.  It sounded older…and familiar.

Her pale, blue eyes widened as realization hit, “Hey…I recognize your voices.  We all got tossed around in the car and broke that…thing together.”

The first voice laughed at her choice of words, “Yep.  Sorry we couldn’t make the proper introductions.”  She felt someone caress her hand, and she took the offered one in hers for a shake.  The voice continued, “I’m Spike, and this is my dad, Sparkplug.”

The older man gave a “hi” at the mention of his name and was soon shaking her hand as well.  The girl gave a smile, “Nice to finally meet you guys.”

Just then, a third, very unfamiliar voice cut into the conversation, “Well, I see my patient is awake.”  The voice came from behind, so he must have just entered the room, Kayla thought.

But the footsteps that came with the voice is what caught her attention.  She could feel the frame of the bed vibrate slightly with each coming step; very large steps.  That could only mean one thing…and it made her heartbeat quicken slightly.  She turned her head towards the incoming noise and inquired, “Patient?”

Sparkplug started to explain, “You kinda’ got hurt out there; we took ya’ back to the Ark with us.”  He was about to get into how guest rooms were added into the home base, which explained the bed she was in.  But seeing her puzzled expression, he thought otherwise and left it at that.

But the teen’s confusion turned into something of a mix between shock and excitement, as if she knew where she was.  The huge, red and white, in-house miracle worker was currently prodding her with a finger, gently lifting her arms and turning her head in different directions, looking her over with much precision.  The physician could see the twinge of worry come over his patient, and he spoke to her in reassurance, “Just a few scrapes is all; nothing serious.”  And he thanked Primus that’s all it was.  He was almost done with the inspection and ran a finger under the girl’s chin.  But his optics were quick to widen when she slowly reached out with both hands and took hold of him, or his finger at least.  He stared at the interesting sight before him as the girl without sight ran a feather-light touch across the smooth metal, inspecting every last bolt and nook and cranny within reach.  It was…fascinating to say the least.  The mech couldn’t help but smile, “I’m Ratchet; chief medical officer of the Autobots.”

Kayla paused, and the ‘Bot took it as the signal to withdraw his massive hand.  She, however, broke into a grin; the Autobots?!  She was in the home base of the Autobots?!  The teen tilted her head back in awe, “Cooool…a robot doctor.”  But then she added in, rather sheepishly, “Sorry to say the news never mentioned you specifically.”

The medic gave a chuckle, “Well ma'am-“

“-Kayla”, the girl corrected.

“-Kayla”, he replied, “I’ve been out in the field plenty of times, but I’m more behind the scenes.”

To that, the teen smiled and shook her head, “The unsung hero.  Now I know who to think about when the Autobots are gettin’ hurt and need repairs.”

“Because knowing is half the battle!” Spike added in, getting a well deserved, playful nudge from his father for the corny statement.

“Speaking of repairs”, Ratchet explained to her, “I had to do a patch job on your friend.  He’s okay now, and he really wants to see you.”  The medic held back a snicker, remembering how impatient the saboteur became when he had to put the girl to bed, and wouldn’t let anyone in the room for awhile.  He didn’t want anyone disturbing her rest.  But now that she was up and about, he figured the mech was running up the walls at that point.  With that, the ambulance carefully scooped the girl into his grasp and held her close to his chest for extra balance.  He was slightly surprised at how well she shifted into a comfortable position, but then remembered from Jazz’s telling that she’d been in many a large grip before.  She definitely had practice by now.  The teen sighed an audible “thank you”, and the doctor was flattered at her politeness; no wonder the Porsche liked her so much. In a nearby corridor, the aforementioned saboteur was leaning against the orange wall; hands behind his back, as he tried to exercise his patience.  Just then, the medical bay doors swished open, and he turned to see Ratchet walking out…with a familiar red-head in his hands.  

The Porsche’s optics widened with joy, “Kayla!”

The girl turned her head at the voice, “Jazz!”  The doctor quickened his pace when she began to squirm around, and upon reaching his target, he gently handed her off to the saboteur, smiling all the while at the spark-warming sight.  Right after the change of hands, the music connoisseur held her close, and she threw her arms around his neck as best she could.  Holding her in one hand, he patted her back with the other one, attempting to return the embrace.  Who cared how awkward the hug was; they were together, and that’s all that mattered.

During this time, Jazz did an inspection of his own and turned to Ratchet, “She looks ‘kay, Ratch.  Why didn’t ya’ release her sooner?”

The doctor cast the Porsche a glance and replied in a teasing manner, “I’m a medic; deal with it.”  That said, the ambulance turned on his heel and walked off.

Kayla twiddled her fingers for emphasis and whispered, “Ooooh, gettin’ dissed by Dr. McCoy’s cousin.”  The saboteur couldn’t help but laugh at the statement; he watched enough Star Trek with Spike and Chip Chase to know what she was talking about.  But how did she know if she couldn’t watch TV?  Probably listened to it like the radio.

The laughter died down as Jazz began to walk down the hallway, but his smile stayed.  It stayed not only for her joke, but because of the immense relief that she was unharmed.  When he felt an odd sensation on his hand, he glanced down to find that Kayla settled herself deeper into his massive palm; reclining back on the fingers as if she were in an armchair.  Another chuckle escaped him, “Man, I’m sure glad ta’ have ya’ back.  Ya’ can’t imagine how worried I was; how worried all of us were.”

Kayla’s eyes tried to find his face as she too, smiled warmly, and sighed, “Trust me.  You ain’t alone.  I’ve had a loooong, interesting day.”

It was then that the saboteur noticed the slightly-pained lilt to her voice, and he gave her face a closer look.  Although she was smiling, it was clear in her eyes and the way she held the grin that the smile was only a mask.  Something was obviously bothering the girl, and she was going through great pains to hide it.  The Porsche’s simple stroll slowed to a trot, and he asked her gently, “Somethin’ wrong?”  The teen’s smile faded away as she realized she was busted.  The mech felt her tense up in his hand as she let out a breath of exasperation.  Instantly, Jazz stopped in his tracks and brought her up so they were face to face.  Slowly, but firmly, he said, “Kayla…what did dat’ monster do ta’ ya’?”

The girl tilted her head down, suddenly finding her unseen shoes very interesting.  Surely, her gargantuan friend must have noticed her missing items by now.  She really hoped the topic wouldn’t be brought up, but with said facts, she realized that would be impossible.  Very quietly, she fessed up, “Well…I su-pose you’ve noticed that…I’m not carrying a cane with me…”  Jazz’s only answer was a soft “uh-huh”, signaling her to continue.  A moment later, she unleashed a painful sigh and lowered her head more; her red-hair draping her face.  In an icy tone, she whispered, “He…destroyed Old Reliable…”

The saboteur’s optics widened behind his visor at this sad piece of news.  A normal passerby wouldn’t consider such an object to be worth crying about, but if one were a musician, they’d think differently.  Being a music connoisseur, the Porsche understood perfectly why this turn of events would trouble her so.  He knew of her instrument and its importance to her.  It was like a part of her soul had been taken, and he realized, with much disgruntlement, that his friend had been harmed.  Physically, not so much, but evil always found a way to get under the metal, or skin in her case.  Those Decepticreeps were going to pay big time for all this…

Just then, Jazz was stuck with an idea.  He carefully placed an index finger under Kayla’s chin to pick her head up.  She wasn’t crying, but her glassy eyes told him she was on the verge to.  He replied in a calming tone, “Well…let’s see if we kin’ do something ‘bout dat’.”  He added in a smile of reassurance, having learned by now that his charge didn’t need her eyes; she could hear the expression in his voice.

The mech chuckled at her look of puzzlement, and began strolling down the corridor once more.  Turning at the first intersection, he came to a halt at a set of double doors, and proceeded to kneel down to set the red-head on the floor.  She was about to ask what was going on, but before she could, he politely told her to stay put.  With no other words spoken, the doors opened and closed with a swish as the Porsche headed into the room.

That left Kayla all alone in the dark.  She said “alone”, because in the, what she guessed, was a hallway, there wasn’t much noise except the hum of electricity.  She was used to having wind, voices, trees, music (best of all), and various other sounds to keep her company in the permanent blackness.  The sudden silence was…unsettling, to say the least.  To combat this, she began to whistle a tune.  Soon enough, she also added in the squeak of her white sneakers as she tapped the floor; mentally stepping the seconds, which eventually turned into a few minutes.  One minute turned to five, and five to ten.  What was he doing in there?

Just then, voices could be heard and the vibration of large footsteps through the sheet of metal.  Sure enough, Jazz re-emerged from the room.  As he came out, he spoke over his shoulder to someone, adding in a wave, “Thanks a million, man!  An’ don’t worry; we’ll take our time.”

Kayla’s eyebrow shot up; take their time for what?  Suddenly, huge fingers wrapped around her, and she was hoisted up again.  A quick check from the saboteur to make sure he was cradling her the right way, and the music duo was off again.  She considered asking him what went on behind the door, but then decided otherwise.  If he wanted her to know, he would have taken her in with him, and if it involved her in any way, she was sure to find out soon enough.  Instead, she went with inquiring about their current destination, “Where we goin’?”

Jazz continued looking ahead; his mouth forming a smirk, “You’ll see.”

This time, it was Kayla’s turn to smile, “That’s an understatement…”  The remark earned her another metallic laugh.

In the Ark’s recreation room, the double doors swished open, and all who were present turned to see who had entered.  Immediately, activity ceased, and everyone’s attention was focused on the black and white mech, or rather, the red-haired bundle he had perched in his hand.  Soon enough, the group came over and formed a bit of a huddle around the saboteur, with the teen held out in the middle.  Jazz was quick to make the introductions; his trademark grin ever present, “Gentlemechs; allow me ta’ introduce ya’ to ya’ savior an’ ma’ friend, Kayla.  Kayla, these are ma’ comrades, da’ Autobots.”

The girl squirmed in her makeshift seat and couldn’t help but blush, feeling all the optics staring down at her.  She couldn’t believe this was happening!  She was finally meeting her heroes, and she suddenly lost her voice!  A short pause, and she managed to muster out, “H-hi…”

To quote the teen without even knowing it, the Red Lamborghini chuckled, “No need to be nervous.”  But the chuckle was in part to the prankster in him that refused to be ignored.  Before anyone could stop him, the mech lightly tapped the girl on the shoulder, attempting the old “trick the person into turning the other way” joke.

Little did he know of Kayla’s incredible hearing.  His voice easily gave away his real location, and she made it known that she was hard to fool.  With all the dexterity of a nerd being picked on who had enough, she deadpanned, “This gag is older than the potato salad hiding in the back of my fridge.”

The mech’s optics widened in embarrassment, while everyone else burst out laughing.  The girl smiled with pride, releasing her initial tension from earlier.  In fact, she felt kind of stupid for even feeling like that in the first place.  She already met Jazz, and despite being a robot, he acted just like a regular person; what made the others any different?  The saboteur finally settled down and addressed the group, “Told ya’ she was sharp.”  He then turned back to Kayla, “Dis’ is our resident prankster, Sideswipe.”

“So I gathered”, the girl giggled, “Nice to meet ya’.”

“Same here”, Sideswipe replied.  He then grabbed the yellow Lamborghini by the shoulder and pushed him forward slightly, “This is my twin brother, Sunstreaker.”

The sun-colored mech extended a finger and prodded her small frame so she’d know where he was.  Taking hold of the metal with both hands, she formed a small handshake, and the yellow Lambo twin said, “So, the girl with guts; we finally meet.”

Again, Kayla blushed, “Awww, you guys save the world all the time.  I’m nothin’ special.”  As Sunstreaker withdrew his hand, the group couldn’t help but be a little shocked at this statement.  A warrior would usually celebrate or boast their victory, especially if they accomplished something of her valor under her unfortunate circumstance.  How could she possibly believe she was unimportant?

A certain tactician especially would see to it that he wiped away that preposterous idea.  Stepping into the ring of spectators, he lightly patted the girl on the back, making her turn to face him as best she could.  Ever the logical one, he minced no words, and stated in a well-mannered tone, “I would severely beg to differ.”  The police car placed his hands behind his back as he delivered his briefing, “According to Jazz, Sparkplug, and Spike, we have much to thank because of you.”  He added in a small smile, “And I must say, young lady, I was greatly impressed at the recount of your ingenuity.  Using your magnetized belt to guide you to the device was very clever…and courageous.” By now, Kayla was beet red and brushing a hand over her face in embarrassment.  

Jazz chuckled, “Listen.  What he’s tryin’ ta’ say, in layman’s terms, is dat’ he thinks yer’ smart.  An’ comin’ from Prowl, our tactician, dat’s an accomplishment!”

Said mech was rubbing his chin, and voiced his thoughts in his usual, stoic way, “On the subject of tactics, I find it odd that she sustained minimal injuries while under Megatron’s capture.”  He quickly added in, “Of course, I’m relieved, but also curious.”  He then leaned in to address the teen, and replied with a lilt of confusion, “The Decepticons did not harm you at all?”

A pained look came over Kayla’s features, and she heaved a sigh, as if trying to find the right words.  As quickly as it came, the general lightheartedness of the conversation drained from everyone present, and a serious air took over.  Naturally, the Autobots wanted to know what happened to the poor, young woman (for some, to know how much more pain to dish out to the ‘Cons; next battle), but they certainly weren’t dead set on her telling them.  If she was in too much hurt to talk, they understood.  Sideswipe started to even state this, but the girl quickly silenced him with a wave of her hand, “It’s okay.  I was just thinking on how to word what I was going to say; it depends on what you call ‘harm’.  Plus, there’s a lotta’ interesting things that go on in that base that I think you guys’ll need to be in the know about.”

With that, the teen slowly, but surely, began to tell her side of the story, starting with Rumble and Frenzy attacking her.  The ‘Bots were pleasantly surprised at how she escaped Soundwave’s cassettes; Sideswipe especially at the mention of her pulling off the old “look over there” gag.  But the seriousness returned when it came to her being taken by Starscream.  After that, it was the song of the jailhouse blues as she described the life of a POW essentially.  She got into the various conversations she heard, detailing how easy it was to get Thunderhead and Skyjerk into a skirmish with one another.  There was laughter at the various nicknames she so “graciously” gave the ‘Cons, and how she was also able to seduce Starscream.  Again, the ‘Bots were thoroughly impressed of the girl’s ingenuity and listening skills.

However, everyone tensed up when she bought about the mention of her communicator and how she tried to call for help.  Jazz was most notably torn; compounded with guilt once more at not trying to reach her sooner.  He began to tell her this, when she interrupted, “Don’t worry about it.  You wouldn’t have gotten through anyway.  The ‘Cons have some sort of jamming frequency around their base so no one can hack their computers.  They called it an ‘EMP’ shield.  Megadork hadda’ have Jet Screamer drop the shield so he could call Collect to you guys.”  Well that piece of news was certainly important.  Prowl announced that he would work with the science lab to look into countering the affects of the shield.  He then let Kayla continue on.

What happened next was the tale of how she remembered Jazz’s music archive, and the plan to try and play a message to them about Megatron’s trap.  The ‘Bots were quick to inform her that her clever idea worked.  From then on, it was her trying to be the biggest annoyance in the world to the tyrant who caged her up. A slight gasp went across the group; they all knew very well that the Decepticon leader wasn’t one to be crossed.  But the teen pointed out the logic, explaining that the dictator couldn’t do anything to her if he needed her as a hostage; Prowl nodded at that. Unfortunately, she went silent at the next turn of events, and Jazz spared her the torment of telling about the guitar’s destruction by informing the mechs for her.  They may not have known her as well as the saboteur, but the ‘Bots generally understood the instrument’s importance to her, and figured that was the pain she was referring to.  It was apparently so, since she had trouble speaking.  The Porsche gently rubbed her back with an index finger as he attempted to soothe her as best he could.

After gathering herself, Kayla was then at the point where the fight broke out.  She started off that tale with a few questions of her own, “By the way; Spike, Sparkplug and I had to take a ‘joy ride’ in one of you guys.”  Her unseeing gaze darted about, “Who was it?”

“That would be me”, came a cheery voice.  The teen leaned forward a bit; puzzled that the voice came from below, rather than above.

She gripped one of the Porsche’s fingers as he suddenly lowered his hand.  She supposed it was to bring her to the new Autobot’s level.  Back to introductions, “Kayla, dis’ is Bumblebee.”

The yellow Volkswagen put a hand on her shoulder and smiled, “Nice to meet ya’.”  He then added in, rather sheepishly, “Um…sorry about puttin’ ya’ through that rough ride.”

The girl put her hand on his and grinned as well, “It’s all cool.  And speaking of rides, you’re not the only one who gave me a lift.  When we all had to bail out of you, that bird, Laserbeak, attacked us.  I think something was going to hit me, because all of a sudden, this thing pushed me and drove me to my hiding spot.”  She scratched her head in wonder, “It felt kinda’ like a…go cart.”

To that, Jazz chuckled and hoisted her back up to his level, “Oh, ya’ must be talkin’ ‘bout Roller.  He’s one a’ Prime’s three components.  ‘Dat lil’ ‘Bot can go anywhere.”

Kayla couldn’t help but laugh herself, “Sorry to say I didn’t study R2-D2 talk.  Can you tell him I said ‘thanks’?”

“Can do”, replied the saboteur.  From then on, it was her recount of how she used her magnetized belt to use as a makeshift cane to guider her to the Magna Ray.  There then came the dilemma of how to get back to where she started, and the solution of using Spike and Sparkplug’s shouts to guide her.  The story was very intriguing…in fact, the whole story was intriguing.  After eons of relying on their sight, to the Autobots, it was interesting to hear one of their battles from a blind person’s perspective.  The entire tale was filled with nothing but smells, sensations, and most importantly, sounds.  Most of all, it was utterly amazing how she could use her remaining four senses to her upmost advantage, and how it aided in her survival.

“Then I passed out and…here we are”, Kayla said; finishing up.  For a moment, all was silent, as everyone stared at one another, and then slowly glanced down at the teenager who essentially risked her life to save them; all of them.  Casting a quizzical glance off into space, the girl attempted to break the tension, “What?  I’m sure any of you guys woulda’ done the same thing.  I couldn’t just sit around and do nothing; you guys helped me, so I wanted to help you.”  Her head dropped slightly and she heaved a sigh, “I mean, I already told Jazz this.  Y-you can’t live in fear…I mean, I’m not tryin’ to be a superhero or somethin’, which I’m not.  I…I just don’t wanna’ be the frail, helpless, blind girl that everyone thinks I am…”

“And you’re certainly not”, came a calm, but strong voice.  Instantly, everyone’s heads perked up and swiveled to face the newcomer.  Standing nearby was none other than Optimus Prime.  The mechs were so enthralled with Kayla and her story, that they almost forgot that their leader had been in the room with them.  Perhaps it was because he didn’t join in the huddle when Jazz first came in.  Granted, the 18 wheeler also wanted to meet the girl, but he knew he would in due time.  He also knew very well that his comrades would be eager to see her, so naturally, the team’s happiness came first.  So, Prime was content to wait patiently from afar and simply listen to the recount, and it was a heroic one at that.  However, it was very peculiar that the teen didn’t see it that way (no pun intended).  She treated it as if it were merely a favor she was doing; she didn’t seem to want to be treated like a hero.  It was pretty selfless of her…and there was something admirable about it.

Optimus came forward and the ‘Bots around him took a few steps back, as if he were parting the Red Sea.  He came to a stop in front of the saboteur and bent slightly in an attempt to bring his face closer to the girl.  Powerful and wise blue optics regarded her, as she slowly craned her head to address her friend.  Knowing her voice would be heard by his powerful audios, she said, above barely a whisper, “Jazz…why is everyone so quiet?”

The Porsche looked down at her, not knowing what to say.  Instead, he glanced back up at his leader, silently telling him to do the honors.  The 18 wheeler took one look at his Special Ops. Officer, then his optics peered back down at the teenager.  Very gently, he replied, “Kayla?”  The girl turned around at the voice and looked up in his general direction.  Having got her attention, he continued, “My name is Optimus Prime.”

Pale, blue, dead eyes widened in shock, and the red-head’s mouth went agape.  She let out a soft, slow gasp; trying to fathom the fantasy-turned real in front of her.  She had to be dreaming all of this.  Not only did she befriend an Autobot, but was now in their very headquarters, in the presence of their greatest leader.  It was one thing to hear plenty of news stories about him; to be actually meeting him was another.  After a hard gulp, she managed out, “S-s-sir…i-it’s…a h-huuuge honor t-to meet you…”

Optimus smiled under his faceplate and actually chuckled, “I appreciate the formalities, but the one to honor here is you.”

Kayla ran a hand through her hair, “M-me?”  She tried to smile and shook her head, “Oh no…n-no, I…”

“Please”, Prime continued; an ounce of kindness in every word he spoke, “You’re not giving yourself enough credit.  While I understand that you wish to not be treated as a hero, there’s no denying that your selfless acts have helped us in more ways than one.”  The girl lowered her head, but the leader used an index finger to gently lift it back up to face him, “You were brave enough to face Skywarp, and in doing so, gave Jazz valuable time in the battle he was in.”   A pause to consider the list of acts, then he went on, “Then, came the warning you slipped us in your music, without which, we might not have considered a trap was evident, given the circumstances.  And even now, you have given us valuable information with which we can use against the Decepticons.”  He then gently placed a hand on the teen’s back, with his thumb resting on her shoulder, “But your bravest act was when you risked your very life to retrieve that device and destroy it.  Had you not done so, the battle might have turned out vastly different, and more than likely, for the worst.”

The leader proceeded to pat the girl on the back, “You have a courageous spirit that’s hard to find.  Your talents have helped us greatly, and for that, we give you our deepest thanks.  It’s a debt that’ll be hard to repay, but perhaps I can start with this.”  Prime kept his optics on the red-head, but stood slightly to signal that he was generally addressing the group, “Let it be known that we’re lucky and proud to have you as our friend.  Feel free to visit us anytime you wish, for anything you need or want.  As such, you have the consolation of knowing that you and your family have the personal protection of the Autobots.”

With that, Optimus took a step back to let his words sink into the shell-shocked teenager.  He and the others could only smile; after everything that happened to her, he felt it was just that he give her this privilege.  He cringed inside, knowing the gesture was also out of guilt for her getting kidnapped in the first place.  With that in mind, there was the chance the ‘Cons might try to target her again, seeing as how they now knew where she lived.  He was surprised they hadn’t gone after Chip Chase again, especially after all the trouble he gave them in getting that anti-matter formula.  At least with her visiting them, they’d be able to keep a closer optic on her.

Her head in a nervous sweat, Kayla ran a hand down her face, trying to fathom what just occurred.  Her new friends were giant, robots from outer space, and if some random jerk off decided to bother her, she could now answer the age old question of “You and what army?”  Oh, just about 20 or so intergalactic, Godzilla-sized cyborgs whose smallest guns are the size of a tree.  She now owned a privilege that very few people had, and she vowed right there that she’d do everything in her power not to shirk that privilege.  Whatever happened, she would make darn well sure that she earned her keep.

His face beaming, Jazz leaned in close to his charge still sitting in his hands, and muttered, “Basically, what Optimus is sayin’ is; welcome to th’ family.  An’ ya’ don’t hafta’ thank ‘im; he already knows.”  He lifted his head to face his leader, “Right, Prime?”

“Exactly”, the 18 wheeler answered with a simple nod.  With nothing to say, the teen merely smiled and drew a deep breath…right now, she was the luckiest girl in the world.

Just then, the Porsche turned his head at the sound of swishing doors, “Speakin’ a’ thanks…”  He set the girl down on the table behind him, then leaned on the top comfortably as a familiar mech approached the two.  The red-head looked up in the direction of the approaching footsteps, and Jazz made one final introduction, “Kayla; dis’ is our scientist, Wheeljack.”

A pair of blue head fins flashed as he regarded her, “So, this is our little hero, huh?  Pleased to meet ya’, kid.”

Before the teen could protest, the saboteur practically cooed in her ear, “Ol’ Jack’s gotta’ little present for ya’.”

Kayla swiveled her head to Jazz in surprise, then back in Wheeljack’s direction, “A…a present?”

“Uh-huh”, the scientist replied, “Now hold out ya’ hands, and shut your eyes.  I’m gonna’ give ya’ a big surprise.”

The teen chuckled and did as she was told, “Um…o-kay…but, you do realize I’m blind, right?”

The head fins flashed as he laughed, “Yeah…which is why this’ll come in handy.”  With that, the scientist reached into a compartment on the side of his leg, and unsubspaced the little gift.  He placed it into her outstretched hands, and the red-head ran a careful inspection with her hands.  The object was metal, however, very light weight; long, and slender.  It came to a soft point on one end, and had a string loop on the other end.

Kayla tilted her head up in shock, “…a new cane?”

“Yep”, Wheeljack answered, “Jazz told me how those Decepticreeps broke your old one, so he asked me to make a new one for ya’.  And there’s a button by the loop at the top; try pressin’ it.”

Curious, the girl felt around near the strap again; she didn’t notice a button before.  Finding the switch sticking out slightly, she gave it a push and listened to the sound of metal softly scraping against metal.  When the noise stopped, she swept a hand over the stick again, only to find that it had decreased in size dramatically.  What was once the size of her leg, was now only about the length of a ruler.  Once again, she looked up, “…it retracts…how did ya’ make this?”

The scientist chuckled once more, “We’re transformin’ robots, kid.  Slappin’ together a retractable pipe is first grade.”

“So that’s why Jazz went into that room”, she thought, “He’d introduce me to his teammates to stall for time while his friend made the gift.”  Sliding what was left of the cane in her belt loop, she smiled broadly, “Awww, Wheeljack, I…”

“Don’t thank me yet, kid”, the scientist interrupted, “I got somethin’ even better.”  As he spoke, he reached into his compartment again and unsubspaced the other gift, “Now, I’m prayin’ to Primus I built this right, but Jazz was more than happy to lend me his archives, so I’m sure his help, well…helped.  Here ya’ go.”  Very gently, even more gentle than with the cane, Wheeljack placed another item into Kayla’s arms.  Running her hands across the smooth, large shape, it took only a moment for her to realize what it was…and her whole body stiffened in shock.

It was a guitar.

For the individuals who could see, it was roughly the same size as her old one.  However, the colors were vastly different.  Instead of cherry red, the new model was snow white, and near the bottom, a musical note was etched into the paneling with the precision of a laser; the backing was jet black.  No doubt a certain saboteur had a hand in choosing the color scheme.  Then again, it wasn’t like colors were going to matter to her anyway.

As the girl ran a very shocked inspection of her present, the scientist stole a glance at his comrades, who were all staring at him; worry showing clearly on every face.  Knowing the mech’s history of countless gadgets blowing up, it was easy to understand why the rest of the Autobots were in a bit of a panic over his latest craft; for their human friend on top of that.  The inventor’s head fins flashed in defense, “What?  Don’t worry; it’s made outta’ wood.”  Everyone let out sighs of relief at that, and Wheeljack continued, “The Ark isn’t too far away from the Mount Hood National Forest, so gettin’ a tree was easy enough.  So was gettin’ a sheet of metal to make the strings.  It was just a matter of usin’ Jazz’s archives and lookin’ up designs.  I just hope I did it right.”

Kayla, meanwhile, was at a complete loss for words.  She just couldn’t believe it; a new guitar.  Her spirit levels went off the scale instantly.  It was like her soul had been found…and Jazz and his friends went out of their way to help her find it.  Such was her state of happiness that she barely heard Wheeljack say, “Hope ya’ like it.”

Instead of words, the teen answered with an exasperated smile as she dropped to her knees, holding the instrument for dear life.  The Porsche grinned and continued to watch the girl, even though he was addressing the scientist, “Don’t worry; I think she likes it.”

Liked it?  She loved it!  Words couldn’t describe how grateful she was for any of this.  After a long pause of gathering herself, she finally mustered out, “…thank you so much…”

“Aww, don’t mention it, kid”, Wheeljack replied, “But I just did the tinkerin’.  It was Jazz’s idea.”

The girl turned back in the saboteur’s direction, but he quickly stopped her with a light pat on the back, “ ‘Fore ya’ say it; don’t.  Ya’ deserve it.”  A long pause, and then, “Well…?”

Kayla cast a quizzical glance, “Well what?”

The mech continued to smile; elbows on the table and chin in hands, “Didn’t ya’ say you were gonna’ play us a number when ya’ got ‘ere?”

The teen thought for a moment, trying to recall their conversation in the park, and it suddenly came back to her, “Yeah…?”

“Well, what’re ya’ waitin’ for?” he demanded, but in a friendly jab, “Let’s test dis’ baby out!  Why don’tcha’ let everyone hear dat’ beautiful voice a’ yours n’ play somethin’?”  There was a chorus of “yeah, yeah, yeah”, from the rest of the group.

A twinge of nervousness ran through her; she never played for a huge audience before.  But knowing that Jazz was there, listening too, this very small fear was short lived.  Slipping back into old habits, Kayla sat cross-legged on the giant table and got her new guitar into position.  While tuning up, she tried to think; what song could she possibly play?  She was going through that same dilemma earlier before she was kidnapped.  Now what?  But soon, inspiration struck.  There was a song she could play, and coincidentally, it went perfectly well with the whole situation thrust upon all parties involved. The tune up complete, Kayla began tapping a beat, and her thumb and index finger hit the strings, unleashing a strong melody that echoed across the Ark’s metallic walls.  Jazz continued to smirk; he knew what was coming.  A few chords later, the girl revealed her angelic singing voice.

_Things are gettin’ weird, things are gettin’ tough_

_Nothin’s makin’ sense, but ya’ keep on lookin’ up_

_They tell ya’ to be true, you’re tryin’ everyday_

_To keep it on the real, still you gotta’ find a way_

_To make your momma happy, to make your papa proud_

_You wanna’ turn it up, but all ya’ hear is turn it down_

_So gather ‘round, I’m here to say_

_You’ll never make everybody’s day_

_But while you’re around you might as well_

_Catch the tiger by its tail…_

 

_and Hang on, hang on, hang on_

_Everybody just Get on, get on, get on_

_Get started and Go on, go on, go on_

_Everybody just hold on_

 

_Sometimes I wanna’ cry, and throw the towel in_

_They try to beat me down, but I’ll take it on the chin_

_And everywhere I go, the people are the same_

_And they just wanna’ know that everything will be okay_

_When things are gettin’ rough, you turn it back around_

_You gotta’ turn it up, when they tell ya’ turn it down_

_So gather ‘round, I’m here to say_

_You’ll never make everybody’s day_

_But while you’re around you might as well_

_Catch the tiger by its tail…_

 

_and Hang on, hang on, hang on_

_Everybody just Get on, get on, get on_

_Get started and Go on, go on, go on_

_Everybody just hold on…just hang on_

_So gather ‘round, I’m here to say_

_You’ll never make everybody’s day_

_But while you’re around you might as well_

_Catch the tiger by its tail…_

_and Hang on, hang on, hang on_

_Everybody just Get on, get on, get on_

_Get started and Go on, go on, go on_

_Everybody just hold on Hang on, hang on, hang on_

_Everybody just Get on, get on, get on_

_Get started and Go on, go on, go on_

_Everybody just hold on…just hang on_

As the last timbres of the chords echoed off into the metal hallways, the whole room of mechs erupted into whistles and applause.  None of them, sans Jazz, had ever really heard someone sing before, least of all, to them.  And some were in utter amazement at yet another talent the girl possessed.  Her face turning red, Kayla smiled and did the best bow she could in a sitting position.  She herself, couldn’t believe it.  She actually sang a number for her heroes; in front of them no less!  And they liked it!

Scratch what she said earlier; this day totally rocked!

Suddenly, giant fingers gently enveloped her small frame, and she was lifted into the air.  She found herself sitting on another metal object, but upon hearing her favorite voice and feeling the vibrations along with it, she realized she was perched on Jazz’s shoulder.  The Porsche swiveled his head to face her, and grinned, “ ‘Dat was great, Kayla!  You played like a dream!  And sang like it too!”

The teen kicked her dangling feet and smiled, “Thanks.  It seemed like the right song to play.  Plus, my mom likes it…a lot…”  Immediately, her cheery face turned to one of utter horror as she suddenly remembered, “…oh no…Mom!”

Naturally, the Autobots grew concerned over their friend’s panic attack.  “What’s wrong?” Optimus asked.

“My mom”, the girl explained in a fluster, “I’ve been gone all day; she probably worried sick!  What time is it?!”

Prowl quickly checked his chronometer, “It’s…7:30, exactly.”

The red-head considered this information for a moment, before answering, albeit much calmer, “Actually…that’s good.”

“How so?” Optimus asked.

“I left the house early this morning”, she explained; her face wrenched in thought, “It’s late in the afternoon now.  It’s a long time away from home, but still way less than 24 hours.  That means I can come up with an alibi.”

“An alibi for what?” Bumblebee inquired.

“For where I’ve been all day”, the girl said, “There’s no way I’m tellin’ her I got kidnapped; she’d freak!  I didn’t even tell her what happened to me the first time around.”

The mechs paused for a moment as they just looked at one another.  None of them had taken that into consideration.  A tense silence filled the air as Kayla merely sat in thought.  How was she to explain all of this?  Remembering her seat on Jazz’s shoulder, she finally let loose a sigh, “However…there is one thing we’re gonna’ do…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Awww...did you REALLY think the Autobots would let her go home empty handed?


	15. Chapter 15

A faint knock was heard from outside, and a worried mother opened the ebony door to find her beloved daughter standing in front of her; mouth turned up in a smile, guitar slung on her back, and stark white cane in hand.  The reddish hues of the evening sunset cast a warm glow upon the teenager, and the woman cried, “Kayla!”  She was instantly wrapping her arms around the girl; hugging her for all it was worth, “Where have you been all day?!  I was ready to call the cops!”

The red-head gladly returned the embrace; happy and thankful to hear her mother’s voice again, and be home again as well.  She then let out a nervous chuckle, “Chill out.  Me an’ my new friend here just got a bit…sidetracked…”

Her mom put both hands on her daughter’s shoulders and pushed back to look her right in the face; alarmed no less, “Sidetracked?!”  The lady paid no heed to the footsteps coming from around her house as she exclaimed, “Young lady, you have some serious explaining to-“  But her sentence terminated abruptly when her gaze shifted upwards at the sound of approaching feet…and she gasped in shock.

Standing before the frightened woman, was a very large…no, gigantic robot.  His black and white paint job glistened in the setting rays of the sun, and he had his hands on his hips in a relaxed manner as he looked at the pair with slight amusement.  Although a blue visor hid his optics, much like the girl’s sunglasses, a playful grin was plastered on his face; a subconscious gesture that tried to say he meant no harm.  The teen’s older double merely stared in stunned silence at the mech before her.

This time, it was Kayla’s turn to make introductions, “Uh…mom...” she extended her hand in his general direction, “…this is my friend, Jazz…one of the Autobots.”  She then pointed back in her mother’s direction, “Jazz…this is my mom.”

The aforementioned robot crouched on one knee to bring himself closer to her level, trying to exhert the friendliest aurora possible.  He then reached up, and with a soft click, he slowly tilted his visor down, much like a human would with sunglasses.  What he revealed, was his rarely seen…but beautiful optics.  Unlike his comrades, who all had the same, light blue color all around, his optics took on a very deep blue hue, practically violet.  The oddest and coolest thing, however, was the light blue point of light within that dark shade, which luminated outwards in a warm glow, sort of like a flashlight.  It was this interesting affect that marked where his pupils would be.  In the affect of a camera shutter, he gave a wink, and said in his most polite tone, “Ma'am.”

She had seen many news reports of the Autobots, but never in her life did the woman ever think that one would actually be standing before her, on her front lawn.  Too dazed to say anything else, she attempted to return his greeting by smiling.  However, her delivery was very meek, “H-h-h-hello…?”

At that point, Kayla’s mother practically collapsed on the cement step in front of the door; elbows propped on her knees, and hands running though her hair; trying desperately to make sense of the scene before her.  After slipping his visor back into place, the saboteur chuckled as he gently nudged the teen forward, for her to take a seat next to the older double.  Doing just that, the girl sighed, knowing she owed her mother an explanation.  Very calmly, she began the story.

However, for the audience who saw the actual events occur, let’s say the tale was a bit…rehashed.  She started off the tale with telling her that when she left the house, she was headed for the park to play her guitar as usual.  Meanwhile, Jazz was locked in a battle with Thundercracker and Skywarp, and unfortunately, she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.  The jet Decepticon tried to use her as a hostage, but using her cane to poke his optic out, it gave the Porsche a window of opportunity to rescue her and put her out of harm’s way.  Now, the teen knew very well that these events, however true, occurred days earlier.  She was hoping she’d never have to tell her mom at all, but knowing she’d become suspicious as to how her daughter acquired a new cane and guitar, the girl had to tell her something.  It was either her encounter with the two nitwit jets, or being held for ransom by Megatron; she went with the lesser of two evils.

When her mother inquired about her different walking stick and instrument, Kayla went on to explain that the two items were accidentally destroyed in the fight.  As an apology, the saboteur invited her to meet the Autobots while a new cane and guitar was built for her.  And to show their thanks for her helping him in the fight, she’d been given permission to visit her new friend anytime she wanted.  “Plus”, she added in a whisper, “I think he likes me…”

By then, Jazz sat cross-legged on the lawn, looking perfectly content with the whole business.  But inside, he was cringing.  He stayed silent the whole time, letting his friend do all the talking.  Quite frankly, he wasn’t crazy about blanching the actual adventure she was put though.  It wasn’t right to lie; the two of them discussed that on the way to her house.  But seeing the woman’s distressed face at the mention of being attacked, the mech realized that, in the long run, maybe this was for the best.  The girl was alive and well; no sense in putting her mom in a total panic if it could be avoided.  In fact, now that he thought about it, his friend technically wasn’t lying; merely withholding information.  All the events she described did occur; she just rearranged the time line so it wouldn’t sound as bad.

By all appearances, it seemed the woman was taking it all surprisingly well.  Never the less, her eyes constantly darted back and forth between the teen next to her, and the robot sitting comfortably in the grass.  With the story complete, she lazily rubbed her forehead, working out what to make of all this.  A nervous sigh escaped her, and she stared at the ground; lost in thought.

Jazz extended his hand slightly in an attempt to calm her, “I understand yer’ concern, maim.  But yer’ aspirin’ musician’s jus’ fine.”  He then added in with a smile, “An’ she sure kin’ pack a wallop.”

The mother looked up at the saboteur upon hearing him speak; Southern/Cajun twang ever present.  She regarded him for a moment or two, taking in his features.  His visor twinkled slightly in the sunset, and she remembered those (admittedly gorgeous looking) optics hidden behind it; how they expressed so much friendliness and politeness.  Her gaze then fell to his trademark grin; radiating with care and joy.  Finally, she considered his very voice.  In only one or two sentences, just his sheer vocalization expressed the tenderness, affection, and compassion dwelling within him.  All n’ all, he held the countenance of a loving, older brother; just something about him that said, “You can trust me to take care of you.”  It was this revelation that made an awkward peace come over the distressed woman.  Now she realized why her daughter liked him so much; everything about him was irresistible, and it certainly wasn’t his fault, or anyone’s fault for that matter, that Kayla was in danger.  She should’ve been thanking him all along that he went out of his way to save the teenager.

Getting up with a smile, the woman did just that, “From the bottom of my heart; thank you.  Thank you for protecting her, and helping her.”  She put both hands on her daughter’s shoulders, “She means the world to me…and the world would be a better place if people acted more like you.”

Jazz rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment, “Awww, it ain’t no trouble at all, ma'am.  Jus’ doin’ ma’ job.”  He then leaned in close, “An’ for da’ record, lemme’ jus’ say ya’ got one amazin’, talented daughter.”  Both women smiled brightly at that.  It was then that he stood back up and reached into the compartment on the side of his leg; unsubspacing a familiar device.  Placing it in Kayla’s hands, she felt the similar grooves and boxy frame…and realized what it was…a new communicator.  To that, he added in, “If ya’ gonna’ come visit, ya’ need ta’ keep in touch.”

The teen smiled even more; on the verge of crying…this was the greatest day of her life.  She tilted her head up in his general direction, “Thank you so much…for everything…”

The Porsche chuckled, “Not a problem, lil’ lady.”  With that, he turned on his heel, being careful not to scuff the ground, and began to walk away.  

However, just as he was about to transform, Kayla’s voice from behind stopped him, “Hey Jazz; one last thing.”

The mech turned back to her with a smile, “Anythin’.”

There was a short pause as the girl considered what she was about to do.  Tilting her head to one side, she asked, “Can I…take your picture?”

One could almost see the billion question marks pop over the mech’s head.  What?  That was an…interesting question.  Taken aback, the saboteur managed out, “Um…o-kay…?”  With no other words spoken, the teen raised her arms slightly, and waved her hands; motioning him to come forward.  Very slowly, he walked back over and got on his hands and knees to bring himself as close to her level as possible.  Hearing the creaking of joints directly in front of her, the girl stepped forward.

Jazz attempted to keep his head as still as possible as Kayla began “taking his picture.”  Starting with his optics, she ran both her palms across the blue surface; her arms having to spread out as she did.  Reaching the start of his helmet on both sides, she then let her hands slide down, until a drop off point was reached.  She then switched to using her fingers, and slid them across the discovered corner; tracing the edge of his visor.  Her hands met back in the middle, where she started, and from that point, she found his nose.  Looking at her in amazement, the saboteur watched as she put a hand on either side of his nose, and ran down the corners.  The investigation led to his mouth, where she softly caressed his lips…down to another point…and spreading out her arms again as she followed his chin, all the while, getting excited goose bumps as she felt the cool metal.  Finally, her “picture” taken, Kayla let her hands drop to the sides, and she cast the mech a wry smile, “Thanks.”

Once again, this chick ceased to amaze him; she now had his face memorized…just with her hands.  With nothing to say, the Porsche simply grinned and wrapped a hand around her.  The girl followed by leaning into his palm, resting her head on his thumb.  All the while, her mother looked on at the heart-warming embrace.  She was overjoyed that her daughter finally found a friend she could relate to.  Even if that friend was a 17 foot tall robot from outer space, it didn’t matter; he was a person like everyone else; he proved it to her right there…maybe this visiting thing would work out.

After what seemed like an eternity, girl and mech finally backed off.  Standing to full height once more, the saboteur politely inclined his head at the teen’s mother; she returned the gesture.  He then turned back to address his friend, “See ya’ ‘round, an’ soon, I hope.”

“Don’t worry; real soon”, Kayla smiled.

With that, Jazz turned around and transformed.  A stylish Porsche hit the ground and sped off down the street; his new friend waving him goodbye.  He honked the horn in return, knowing that the farewell wasn’t permanent.  He had a feeling he’d be seeing her around a little more often now.  He really hoped so.

Because on that day, Jazz learned that in this world, there’s more than meets the eye.

 

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: And so ends "Guitar Hero", but wait! This is only the beginning of Kayla's adventures! Stay tuned for the sequel! 
> 
> For all of you who stuck around all the way to the end, I give you my sincerest thank you! It really means alot to have people critique and comment one's work, and I truly learned alot, both in characterization and writing style, while writing both this and its sequel.
> 
> Thank you all so much for taking the time to read this. I only hope you'll stay for the sequel, 'cause personally, I think Part 2 is even better! Hope you enjoyed this blast from the past from me. Be sure to check out my original webcomic, "Jamie Jupiter"! You can message me for all the details! Later!


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